


Chronos-826

by okamiwind



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Space Opera, Gore, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prophecy, Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, mild drug use, suicide mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 174,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23861053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okamiwind/pseuds/okamiwind
Summary: It is the year 2526.The universe is full of danger.The Agency is here to protect you.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Oh Sehun
Comments: 136
Kudos: 182
Collections: EXO Big Bang Writing Event





	1. Chapter 1

At zero five hundred hours, the halogen lights go on, a faint buzz that blares in the quiet. 

Sehun rubs at his eyes amid the quiet groans of the rest of his cabinmates, same as he does every morning. 

It takes approximately four minutes for the agents on his floor to move single file into the shower area, and one by one, they step into the changing room and proceed through to one of the stalls. One by one, they move into the machines. Sehun yawns as he waits in line as it lessens, and then, when the doors open for him, he steps inside. 

The water is perfectly tailored to his preferences, 40.6 degrees Celsius. It shoots from all sides, falls from overhead, and he closes his eyes for a blissful moment as the machine begins to work. From the ceiling, a helmet lowers onto his head, and as soon as it’s touching him, the scrubbers begin to work shampoo into his hair, massaging his scalp. Simultaneously, soap shoots from the wall, the rollers rubbing along his limbs. 

The plate under foot rotates, and he moves with it, letting the machine work to wash him clean. It rinses him, the suds dripping to the vented floor and draining through, and then the rains stop. 

His favorite part. 

Warm air gently blows him dry. He goes to his locker as the rest of the agents dress, mingle, laugh. He places his thumb on the scanner. It pops open, and he steps into his charcoal grey jumpsuit, zips it up. He affixes his bracer, diamond-coated and practically indestructible so that, even in the worst conditions, he’ll be able to call for help. It is a safety precaution, and he runs his fingers over the little raise of the black emergency button, touching the slick display screen. 

He looks at his reflection in the mirror hung on the inside of the door, and his eyes glance over the badges. The crest of The Agency, a silver shield inlaid with steepled black triangles, rests over his heart. He runs his fingers through his hair. Shuts the locker door. 

By zero five thirty hours, he is refreshed, ready for his day. 

His floor eats First in the cafeteria at zero seven hundred, so until then, he is free to do as he wishes. Sehun spends his time studying. He’s got more readers than any agent on his floor, and he studies much more than they do. There’s usually… generally, there’s camaraderie between agents. They’re supposed to use the time to bond, to explore each other’s strengths and weaknesses. To find agents that they could work with. To find someone worth working for. He’s never been too good at that. 

There were, of course, two exceptions to prove the rule. He does not think of them. Tries not to think of them now. He can take care of himself. He’s shown that time and time again. 

Sehun lies on his stomach, the reader laid across his pillow, and he absently flips his finger across the screen. He’s been working on an upgrade to his staff, a crystalline blade at the north end. He’s chosen his material, the plentiful silverstar, but the magic needs to be just right if it’s going to respond to him, if it is to do more good than bad. 

The shapes are important, so while the sharp, arrowed blade seems solid enough, Sehun studies through _Ancient Runes of Sovilia: Meanings and Uses_ , flipping through symbol after symbol. There are runes for strength, for agility, for intelligence and bravery, but Sehun finally lands on a rune that means _need_ , the lines straight and mean as they bisect each other at harsh angles, two Xs meeting at head and tail. 

Sehun double taps on the rune, before flicking his fingers up into the air, the rune rising up in an h-gram. He spins the gram, watches the symbol flicker and spin like the axle of a wheel before it slows. 

He pokes at the screen embedded in the headboard until he can navigate to his design for the silverstar blade, and then he pops that h-gram into the air as well. He sits up, crosses his legs. He taps the rune h-gram with his left pointer finger, taps the blade h-gram with his right pointer finger, and he swipes them together, lets the images meet and meld in the cold blue light.

He raises the single design high above his head, lies back on the bed again as he stares at it. It's good, he thinks. It'll work. Maybe it'll be enough... for the next time.

The last blade he had at the end of his staff was made of pink astrade, the center of the stone hollow and iridescent, and it was filed to an elegant eight pointed starburst. At the edges, the astrade glowed gold, and the laser-engraved charms at the border spelled the word _protection_.

Every time he thinks of it, the way it shattered like glass, his heart breaks. The tears prick at his eyes, burn like acid. He wipes them away as he stares up at the ghostly light of the h-gram above him. He lets the anger rise in him. Feels the energy bouncing off the walls inside him, each collision another fission, a bright ball of terrible emotion. The kind he needs to learn to control. Do away with.

But he can't. He just can't. He was never good at emotional control. Kyungsoo was better. _Minseok_ was better. Minseok deserved to live. Minseok deserved to still be here. It should have been Sehun. It should have been _him_.

Sehun grabs the reader with the runes, clenches it between his fingers, and without another second's hesitation, he hurls it at the wall across from him, the pieces of jagged metal and glass fracturing and splitting. He closes his eyes, sobs brokenly, his chest caving in as he heaves out breath after breath.

It is then that the door to the room chimes, the slick metal sliding open, and there, witnessing all his mistakes, all his worst moments, all his lowest lows… there is Kyungsoo.

"What did you do?" he asks, and there is a soft, understated concern on his face. He is a master of control, does it better than Sehun ever could. "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine; it’s nothing," Sehun says, and he wipes at his face, sits up, taps a few times on the screen by his headboard until the vacuums begin, sucking up all the fragments the reader left behind. "Sorry. I'm..."

"You're what?" Kyungsoo says. "Fine? You don't look fine."

"I'm fine," Sehun argues. "I am."

"You smashed another reader." He couples the statement with a smirk. "You almost got kicked out of Second the other day. I saw you."

"Yeah, well…"

" _Yeah, well_ what?"

"Someone said something," Sehun says. "And so…"

"And so you let it fuckin' get to you again," Kyungsoo says.

"Yeah, I'm… I'm weak. I get it," Sehun says. "You don't need to lecture me anymore."

Kyungsoo steps into the room, the halogens shining onto his pitch-black hair. He is so beautiful. And every time Sehun looks at him, he remembers. Remembers. Remembers. It is inescapable. Every time he looks at his partner, the second third of his triad that was supposed to last forever, he sees the piece missing. He sees Minseok. Sees his face bloody and bruised. Sees his hair. Sees his mouth, hanging open in death. 

"I'm not lecturing," Kyungsoo says. "Just telling you what you're already supposed to know. What you _do_ know."

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Sehun warns. 

“Yeah, I know,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun knows him well enough to know that he is not happy, that he is dreading this day, what happens after the wait. “But I was worried about you.” 

“Worried about me?” Sehun stares at the rune, flicks his finger again to send it spinning in the air. “Why are you worried?” 

“You know what today is.” 

Sehun looks at him, sees the sleep in his eyes. They are both so tired of this. They are both so exhausted. Haven’t they earned more rest than this? Haven’t they earned some respite? He wonders why Kyungsoo chose this, wonders why he is dragging Sehun forward. 

“Yeah,” Sehun agrees. “I know what today is.” 

“Are you going to be okay?” Kyungsoo asks. “I need you to hold your shit together long enough to make it out of the meeting.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Sehun says. “Don’t worry about me.” 

Kyungsoo frowns, and he crosses to Sehun’s bed, taking Sehun in his arms. The hug is brutal, crushing, and it is what Sehun needs most of all in this galaxy, in all the galaxies beyond. It isn’t something he should need. It is a comfort he should have left behind long ago. 

“I can’t help but worry about you,” Kyungsoo whispers, and he says it to Sehun’s shoulder, the words imprinted like a hex lasered into his skin. “You’re all I have left. I need to protect you. I want to keep yo—look, I just don’t want to lose you, too.” 

“You’re not going to lose me,” Sehun says. The whole reason he chose the same retest was so that they could do this all over again, so that Kyungsoo couldn’t leave him behind. “I just… I don’t get it.” 

“Don’t get what?” 

“Why are we doing this to ourselves?” Sehun asks. “Why are we jumping back in? It’s… it’s not even been ten weeks, and we’re—” 

“Sehun,” Kyungsoo interrupts. “You need this.” 

“Need _what_? Need to _replace him_?” 

“You need to start the process. Or else you will be stuck here forever. And that night… I made a vow to him. I told him I would keep you safe.”

The silly tears of a child jump into Sehun’s eyes, and he wipes them away quickly. 

“I am safe,” he says. 

“Not from yourself,” Kyungsoo says. “You’re always alone.” 

“Not when you’re here,” Sehun argues. 

“I can’t be here all the time.” Kyungsoo holds him by the back of his neck, and Sehun wishes, just once, that they could kiss the way they did when death was all around them, that he could taste the acrid air on Kyungsoo’s lips, that he could lick all the bitterness away. “I want to be, but they won’t let me.” 

“Once we’re deployed again,” Sehun says. “Once we’re in a triad again, once we’re sent out, then—” 

Kyungsoo sighs, and he closes his eyes. Sehun watches as his lids slowly open, teasing and liquid. His eyes are warm as he looks through Sehun, smiles at him. 

“Yeah, then,” Kyungsoo agrees. “I just worry about today.” 

“You’re gonna be there,” Sehun says. “I’ll be okay.” 

“The meeting… and the _testing_.” 

“You’ll be there,” Sehun says, and he raises his hand, touches Kyungsoo’s chest, right by his heart. “I’ll be able to feel you. I swear, I will.” 

“Good,” Kyungsoo says. “Feel me, because I’ll be there, trying to feel for you.” 

Sehun shuts his eyes. Hopes with all his heart. They found each other once. They can find each other again. _We will, won’t we?_

“Happy thoughts,” Kyungsoo says. “Happy, happy thoughts.” 

“Everything is good,” Sehun says, and his eyes slip shut as Kyungsoo holds him. “Everything will be okay. We’ll find each other.” 

“Yeah, buddy, we fuckin’ will.”  
  


♄

The board of directors at The Agency is no more than a board of screens, and their voices are transmitted, displayed with dancing blue wavelengths. Nirth isn’t for them. It’s for agents. The directors don’t live with them, don’t eat with them, don’t even show their faces. All they need is the information. For thirteen years of Sehun’s life, he’s given all he has to them.

He is seated at the lone desk, a screen in front of him, a small black button next to it. Sehun sits down at the desk, presses his thumb to the screen, and his verification details pop up. His current height and weight, his heart rate, his blood pressure, his recent missions, his triad… he sees their details, too, off to the side. _Agent 78193, Do Kyungsoo, status: alive. Agent 78179, Kim Minseok, status: deceased._

Slowly, he lowers his thumb over the small black button, and he says his name. 

“Agent 78194. Oh Sehun,” he says. 

After that, there is no stopping it. No pause. The meeting begins. 

“On oh-four, oh-two, year 2526, at approximately eighteen hundred hours, your most recent Triad was deployed to the planet Sovilia in the neighboring Whirlpool galaxy of Messier 81,” a female voice reads. “Is that correct?” 

Sehun presses the button, speaks into the microphone that projects his voice to a terrifying volume. 

“Yes, that is correct,” he says, wincing at the sound of his own voice at such a level. 

“Your mission on the aforementioned date had two primary objectives. The first objective was to destroy an infestation of gas-leeches on the planet. The second objective was to recover an ancient text,” a male voice says, the screen with his wavelength pulsing with blue light. “Is that correct?” 

“That is correct,” Sehun answers. 

“On the aforementioned date, after destroying the infestation and recovering the text,” a second female voice says, and Sehun whips his head towards the shaking wavelength that appears on the screen, the nerves rising in his stomach as he realizes where the interview is going, “you were accosted by the Night Mare. Is that correct?” 

“According to my recollection, and I’ve examined it multiple times, yes. That is how the day proceeded,” Sehun says, and he sits back, eyes watering as he remembers. 

“Now, we will play your testimony from the immediate interview upon your return to the Ninth Earth,” a man says, and Sehun tenses horribly when he realizes that he will have to listen to the aftermath, to the terror, to the carnage that implanted itself inside Sehun’s throat, bleeding flesh and spilled guts. “Please listen and either confirm or deny its accuracy now that you’ve had time to examine your recollection.” 

Then, the system clicks on, and Sehun braces himself, tries to display nothing across his face. He can’t see them, but they can see him. They can read his heartbeat. They can see whether or not he’s in control. 

“ _I-It, she, it, whatever it was… it was terrible_ ,” Sehun hears his shaking voice say. “ _W-We were totally unprepared. W-We had no idea how to fight it. We tried… we tried_ everything. _The spells we threw, the training. It didn’t matter. Nothing hit. I mean, it was a shadow. It was a fucking shadow. It was a ghost. It was spectral. An amorph. But fucking vicious._ ” He devolves into whimpering sobs, hears the mucus in his throat and his nose. “ _We were done for as soon as it showed up. T-The… the only reason we’re here, I mean, the_ only _reason we’re here is because Minseok died. Because he died for us._ ”

Sehun’s eyes burn, and he blinks back tears as the memory comes back, comes back again and again. Blistering like an open, burning wound.

"Can you please confirm or deny those words?" a director says, and as Sehun sits there blankly, he cannot, for the life of him, determine whether that director has spoken to him before.

What does it matter anyway? They're all the same. They are one voice in different pitches. They are one body made of different organs. They are The Agency, and they control each little piece of the agents. He is just a cell. He dies, and he is easily replaced.

"I can confirm," Sehun says, his voice trembling with an emotion that shouldn't be there.

"To the best of your ability and with as much detail as possible, please describe Sovilia," a director orders.

Sehun widens his eyes, shocked for a moment. It's almost like he's back in class. Those were better days. Those were easier days. He gets out of his own head, blinks, and then, clicking the button again, he begins.

"Sovilia is a Class Four planet in the Messier 81 system. Her atmosphere is close to Nir—the Ninth Earth's, composed primarily of hydrogen, helium, trace amounts of nitrogen and atomic oxygen. Without the constructed ozone, however, we required the breather mask," Sehun says. "The plants that survive the harsh atmosphere are hardy, such as clovaris and germ bushes. We spotted many familiar species like Wewix and Tronklor. These aforementioned species roam freely since the planet is no longer inhabited by any humanoid lifeforms. Still, the gas-leeches were invasive, so they posed a large threat to the planet due to its atmospheric makeup because they would have caused an explosion if they had sparked, as they do when agitated. We dispersed of the—"

"Agent, please focus on the question," the director interrupts. "Extraneous details should be omitted. Please describe Sovilia."

"R-Right," Sehun says, sufficiently reprimanded. "Um. Largely, Sovilia is a ruin. While it was used as a tradepost after the collapse of their government, that… that’s ended. The buildings, they’re, um, domed and paneled, but they’re crumbling. The lightroads are no more. The soil is little more than ash, and there is very little color.” 

“Sufficient,” a director says. “Please describe the Night Mare.” 

“I… it’s a shadow, l-like I said before,” Sehun says. “Like… like smoke. Like clouds of gas?” 

“What form do the clouds take?” a director asks. 

“It… sometimes, most of the time we saw it, it was a horse. O-One of the ones I can remember from the old readers of Fourth and Fifth Earth. Six legs, a large frame… _large_ , perhaps even that is an understatement. And it can shapeshift. It’s quick. Within the blink of an eye, it changes forms. I don’t understand how it works. Kyungsoo tried hitting it with a spell, but it just bounced off, ricocheted.” 

“How large?” 

“H-How—” 

“How large is the Night Mare?” 

“Bigger than the buildings.”

“Approximately…?” 

Sehun breathes in. “Approximately 800 meters?” He breathes out. 

There is no lingering on the details, no dawdling. It is ruthlessly efficient, and the emotions he tries to shove away, emotions he tries to pretend aren’t there… they boil within him. 

“Please explain the attack plan,” a director says. “Did you make use of your staff?” 

“Y-Yes,” Sehun answers. “I did. It’s b-broken now, of course.” 

“Proceed with your explanation,” another director says. 

“There was no time to formulate a plan,” Sehun says. “There was no time to think. We relied entirely on instinct, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even close. If we weren’t able to get to our ships in time, we would have been dead too. It… it was a bloodbath.” 

“Did you utilize any defense strategies?” a director asks, and he sounds bored. “The Ellisier maneuver? The fearfight methods?” 

“Y-You’re not listening,” Sehun says, and he holds the button down, fingers shaking as the anger rises. “You don’t understand. There was no time for… for any of that. We were running for our lives. There wasn’t… you couldn’t—” 

“Answer the question, agent.” 

“N-No, _no_ , of course I fucking didn’t,” Sehun says, and even as he says it, he knows he should bite his tongue until it bleeds. “No, I keep saying, Kyungsoo keeps telling you. There wasn’t any time. Even when we sent offensive spells, it… we would have killed ourselves with the bounce backs. W—don’t you understand? Don’t you fucking get it?” 

“Agent.” 

“What?” Sehun says, and the tremors run down his spine, mighty and strong. “ _What_?” 

“Breathe deeply,” a director advises, and Sehun has heard the command enough to know that he is close to the edge, close to losing control of himself. 

Sehun obeys them, knows that they’re right. He’s been taught well, and he was a model student for so long. Everything has come crashing down around him. Minseok. The light from his eyes. Sehun wants to cry. Sehun wants to scream. Sehun wants to throw his shattered staff through the screens. 

He breathes, he breathes deeply. 

“Agent 78194, remember your training. Remember your schooling. Our emotions blind us. They make our jobs more difficult,” the director says, and Sehun wonders how true it is for the agents, for the directors. True in different ways, he imagines. “You and your triads, you are tasked with the immense, important, and ultimately impossible mission of protecting the galaxies against the monstrous atrocities that spawn throughout the wilderness of deep space. This is not something we do _thoughtlessly_. This is not a mission to be taken _lightly_.” 

“No,” Sehun agrees. “No, I don’t take it lightly.” 

“Our feelings are fleeting,” the director says, and there is a kindness, a gentleness in the tone that Sehun remembers from rare reprimands. “The results of _acting_ on our emotions… those repercussions last much longer than we anticipate, don’t they?” 

He thinks of the way blood spilled from Minseok’s mouth. 

“Yes,” Sehun agrees. “They do. I apologize, director. I misspoke.” 

“Accepted,” the director says. “We understand the gravity of the situation. We are sincerely sorry for the loss of Agent 78179. He was an outstanding agent, as we are sure you are aware. He will be missed dearly.” 

“Y-Yes. He will.” 

There is a fraught moment, one that hangs in the air, and Sehun sits back in his chair, gives himself a chance to gather his thoughts before the next part. Before the retest. 

“Agent 78193 informed us that, after your retest, it was your intention to apply for deployment as soon as possible.” 

Sehun leans forward, speaks into the mic. 

“That’s correct.” 

“And your suggested deployment, according to Agent 78193, was the disposal of the Night Mare,” the director says. 

“Yes,” Sehun answers. “As long as The Agency was able to provide us with intel on its whereabouts.” 

There is a drop of silence, a drop in an ocean. 

“Are you committed to this job?” a director asks. “Clearly, you understand the risks of seeking out the Night Mare once more, but are you prepared to be deployed again, facing those same risks?” 

“Yes,” Sehun answers. “I am.” 

“Agent 78194,” a director chimes, and Sehun turns his head, watches the wavelengths move. “It is time. Do you consent to today’s retesting?” 

The implication is there. He can wait. He doesn’t have to retest. He can opt out, give himself a longer vacation. Rest and recuperation. More time to process what’s happened to him, who he’s lost. But Kyungsoo is retesting, and if Sehun wants a placement with him, if he wants to be part of Kyungsoo’s triad again, he will have to consent. He _must_ consent. 

“Yes, I consent.” 

Once more, he presses his thumb onto the screen, making the lights flash blue as it seals the documents and processes his memories into a recollection. It is a feeling he still has yet to get used to, almost like having blood drawn, but from his head. He blinks quickly. 

An h-gram pops into the air as the board of screens splits in half, revealing the door to the testing chambers. 

_Please proceed_ , the h-gram reads, and as Sehun stands, it floats over towards the door, leading him in. 

He stands, and he walks across the threshold into the testing chamber. 

As soon as he steps into the room, triggering the floor sensor, the bright white halogens shudder on, and he is greeted by a chamber that he has seen only once before. When he turned seventeen years old, he was sent here, thinking that maybe he would have several tests before he was paired with a triad. The instructors said that it might be dozens, even hundreds of tests before he found a triad. 

Sehun was paired on his very first test. It had been Kyungsoo’s forty-sixth. It had been Minseok’s one hundred and eighty-first. His consciousness had found theirs in the matrix, in the air above them, and it had latched onto them. He had thought… he thought he would never be here again. He thought he would either live out his contract in their triad, or he would die with them. He feels like an arm’s been ripped off of him. He feels the guilt coating his tongue like a film of grease. 

“Please proceed to the test chair,” a disembodied female voice calls out, echoing in the emptiness of the room. 

Sehun obeys, even when he wants to stop, even when he wants to turn and run. He’s on his own. He’s better on his own. He _should_ be on his own now. He should be dead. He should be dead with Minseok. 

He walks over, and he looks at the chair. It is so bright white, pure. Hard to look at for too long. Sehun squints as he wordlessly studies the contraption above it, the harnesses and the cage that hangs from the ceiling. There are probes at the neck of the chair, and Sehun stares at them, wondering if they’ve improved the injection at all. The last time he had to get it, it burned fiercely, simmering its way up into his brain. 

“Please proceed to the test chair,” the disembodied voice repeats, and this time, Sehun sits in the chair, reclines. 

With a whirring sound, a small screen lowers from the cage overhead, and it again asks for his consent. He presses his thumb to it, lets it scan him. Then once it’s finished, the screen retracts back up into the ceiling, the tiles of white parting so it can recede. 

Then, the chair begins to rise. He closes his eyes as the process begins, as the metal cage and fabric harnesses strap him in, as the probes start to push out from the chair. It’s easier when you’re calm, he remembers, it’s easier when you’re calm, it’s easie— 

The probes on either side of his throat thrust into him, quickly injecting and then withdrawing. It is a dizzying heat that pulses through him angrily. He would scream if he could. His body twitches in agony, instinctively trying to fight it, but the harnesses hold him down. He cannot focus on anything but the loud throbbing in his ears, a sound he wishes he could dispel, but it is then that he realizes that it is the throbbing sound of his blood rushing through him. 

He is hyper-aware, devastatingly present. There is a flutterbug in the corner of the room, and it is humming loudly, cleaning its legs. The halogen lights are screaming. He can hear footsteps. He can hear his eyes moving. He can feel his cells. Synapses firing. It sounds like gunfire. Smells like chlorine. 

Then, not a moment later, he experiences the terrible feeling of being shoved out of his body, the ghost of him ascending to the retest.  
  


♄

He feels cold. He feels a phantom ache, like a wound in a limb that doesn’t exist. He swims through oceans of darkness, and he looks, looks, looks. Kyungsoo will be here somewhere. Kyungsoo… he swears he can find him. He knows he can. They promised each other. They will stick together until the end. Until the very end.

There is nothing in front of him and nothing behind, so Sehun begins to wander. He could be spinning, could be moving in a straight line, or perhaps a parabola. It is empty space, empty and black, and there’d be no way of knowing one way or the other. 

When another consciousness joins him, Sehun gets the general feeling as he swims around it. Curious. Childlike. There is something adhesive about this spirit, the person that begins to follow him as he swims through a crowd of consciousnesses. They are all people, and Sehun only gets a glimpse at them. He hears their voices, and yet, he can’t tell who is who. They all sound so… anonymous. 

The panic that overtakes him is total, makes him shiver and shake, and for a moment, he is back in his body, watching himself from overhead. He is seizing on the chair. Sehun wants to reach out and stop it, wants to do anything but swim with these people, their minds mixing and melding like liquid metal. 

Sehun spins, spins, spins. Dizzy. So fucking dizzy. 

He can’t breathe, and then he realizes how silly that sounds. Can’t breathe? Right now, he doesn’t have a body to breathe with. 

He is drowning in the water that doesn’t exist, and the spirit that is adhered to his own is not Kyungsoo’s, doesn’t feel anything like Kyungsoo. There is a warmth to him, but it is not a deep, familiar warmth. It is warmth that is spread over everyone, no one in specific. Kyungsoo’s affections are specific. Granular and laser-focused. 

He looks, blips to the corners to look for the beautiful soul that resides within Kyungsoo. He remembers the first time. Remembers the swelling of heat when he first happened across him. He felt like rest. He felt like warm milk. He felt like base comforts that Sehun had learned to forget. Where are those feelings now? All he can feel is the person hanging onto him. He can’t feel anything besides that. 

_Focus_ , he tells himself. _Focus, and let him find you._

Sehun stays perfectly still, lets himself go blank. Thoughts try to drip through him, but he throws up walls. Knows that Kyungsoo will recognize him for that. _Remember how hard it was to get through to me,_ he thinks. _Remember how hard you had to try just to break me out of my shell?_

There is a response, but not the one he hopes for. The soul around him, the person wraps and swirls around Sehun, making a tangled mess of the two of them. Sehun wants to shove him away, wants to detach. But they are stuck. Stuck. 

A voice echoes through him, through everyone. It is a rippling effect, sound waves vibrating water. 

_The test will conclude in five—_

Madness and frenetic chaos, light and sound, boiling oceans and exploding stars. People flock to each other like it is the end of days, and they try to hold on to each other as the world collapses, trying to drag them apart. 

_Four—_

Sehun furiously tries to shake the person that has braided through him, but the individual is strong-willed, desperate, and even though he doesn’t want anyone else besides Kyungsoo, doesn’t want another triad, Sehun picks them up, accepts them, welcomes them. Drags them forward. 

_Three—_

Sehun searches. Where could he be? Why isn’t he calling? Why can’t Sehun hear him? Didn’t he say he would be here? Didn’t he say they would find each other? Bile in Sehun’s mouth, and it spills everywhere, acidic and cruel. 

_Two—_

Sehun shouts, no mouth or lungs or vocal chords, but he shouts, and zipping through darkness, Kyungsoo screams at him, a fury of high-pitched, awful wails that sound like a chorus of a dozen voices. Sticking to him, tumbling through walls. 

_One._

And everything falls away, pixels and blocks of black space tumbling through a floor that only exists in his mind, and he is holding onto two, a stranger and the man he loves.  
  


♄

Sehun wakes, his soul plunged back into his physical form, and he breathes sharply before coughing out loudly, his body still twitching uncomfortably as if he's woken from a dream where he was falling only to find himself moving in reality. What the hell happened in there? Who was it that wouldn't let go of him? And why didn't Sehun shove him away? Why didn't he put distance between them?

He very nearly missed his opportunity to get to Kyungsoo. He was _that_ close to being left behind. Furious, frustrated tears spring at his eyes, and he wipes them away, steadying his breath as the straps unfasten and the chair lowers, eyes stuck on the cage above him. 

With a _whoosh_ , the chair's hydraulics stop, finally settled. 

Slowly, the h-gram falls from the ceiling, the bright blue light haunting as it reveals the results of his retest. 

_Triad complete,_ it reads, and Sehun's heart flips in his chest. He can't tell whether this is mending or further destruction. 

The compatibility scores are shown next, and Sehun waits patiently for the number reveals. He knows Kyungsoo's by heart, knows Minseok's too. But he searches for only one, _78193_. 

But 78193 isn't the first number that is displayed. Instead, he reads the number 78182, a compatibility score that he cannot possibly believe is accurate. 

_94.32_. 

The readout must have malfunctioned. There must have been a glitch somewhere along the lines. It cannot be correct. A stranger? It can't be true. Most strangers score below a fifty on the compatibility range. He’s seen the readers. Labored over them as he was preparing for his first test. It makes no sense. The logic isn’t there. 

The second line that reveals itself, the numbers appearing one by one is 78193, and Sehun takes a deep breath, relaxing into the cushioned chair. He tells himself that the compatibility score doesn't depend entirely on the speed with which you find each other. He knows that's not the only factor. He waits. Waits for the reveal. His heart rests. The score doesn't matter. All that matters is that they've found each other amidst the noise.

And yet—

 _78193, CS: 42.22_

Sehun begins to panic when he sees the score, his pulse going into overdrive as his stomach rolls with displeasure. Now, he is convinced that there has been a mistake. Maybe the results were reversed? How could he possibly have a higher compatibility with someone he's never met before? How could his score with Kyungsoo have gone down so low? They've... they've supported each other. They've clung to each other in a chaotic world. Used each other for strength. Built each other up from nothing. They have been through hell. The deepest parts of horror. And now? What? 

42.22? 

He is desperate in his attempt to not let it eat away at him as he waits for the voice, the voice that will surely come and tell him what to do, but tears fall down the sides of his face, landing on the white of the chair. 

Eventually, it comes, the same pleasant, female voice from before. 

_Please exit the testing chamber,_ she commands, and Sehun has never been so happy to obey an order. 

He breathes in, out. Wipes his face and pushes out of the chair, heads back through the door, and into the lobby. It opens up, a bunch of the other testers already mingling, fraternizing, discussing their results.

Sehun looks around, whipping his head from side to side. He sees plenty of people he knows, faces rushing by, either joyous with a newly formed triad or dejected with another failure. He feels like screaming, wants to find him so fucking badly, but then, a hand comes to his shoulder, and he wheels around. 

“H-Hey,” Kyungsoo says weakly, and Sehun holds him by the hand, grateful to be here with him. “Why are you crying?” 

“I’m not,” Sehun says, and tears fall down his face, relieved. He throws himself into Kyungsoo’s arms, gets a laugh for his troubles. “Shut up. It isn’t funny.” 

“It’s a little funny.” 

“It isn’t,” Sehun says, and he rubs his nose against Kyungsoo’s suit. “H-How did we score so low?”

Kyungsoo squeezes him tightly, and Sehun makes a noise, trying to bite it back as soon as it’s left him. 

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo confesses, “but it doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that we’re back together again. And we’ll get to train, okay?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun sighs. 

They hold each other for longer than they should, an amount of time that would probably be judged as indulgent and frivolous, but Sehun tells himself that the extra shot of oxytocin is necessary, that if they want to build their score back up to where it once rested, he’s got to put in the extra work. 

They listen to the sounds of triads forming around them, and Sehun looks around, aware that somewhere in the sea of faces, there is one who belongs with the pair of them. Someone to split them apart. 

Kyungsoo pulls back from the embrace, always the first, and Sehun’s heart fucking aches. He knows that things can never go back to the way they were, and yet it doesn’t stop him from hoping. Praying. 

“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo says, and he balls up a fist, punches Sehun in the shoulder. 

But Sehun is quick, grabs his hand, holds it there against him. 

“What if we don’t get along?” Sehun whispers. “What if they’re—” 

“What was your score?” Kyungsoo asks. 

And Sehun’s mouth goes dry. He looks away, studies a pair of agents getting to know each other. Friendly, but still distant. Superficial bonds. _Is that all this is?_ , he wonders. _Surface level?_

“High?” Kyungsoo prompts. 

“Yeah.” 

“Then don’t worry about it,” Kyungsoo says. “Test knows best.” 

_I hope_ , Sehun thinks. 

Then, a man approaches them. Sehun has seen him before in the cafeteria and in the training bays. He is what some of the agents might call beautiful, with dark red hair and dark brown eyes, red lips and a blush at his cheeks. He looks almost winded, like he’s been training on the runners, and Sehun squares himself to him, looking him up and down. Small. Like Kyungsoo. He wonders if he’s sturdy. 

His jumpsuit is black, two shades darker than Kyungsoo’s and Sehun’s, and he wonders just how much this man has seen and learned if he’s at Black already. Most agents never reach the Black, not over the course of their entire contract. Sehun gains a new respect for him, but also a healthy dose of fear. If he’s at Black, what is he capable of? 

“Nine-three?” the man asks, looking at Kyungsoo before pivoting to Sehun. “Nine-four?” 

“Yes, nice to meet you,” Kyungsoo says for the both of them. 

“Junmyeon,” he offers, sticking out his hand to Sehun first, “nice to meet you.” 

Sehun is hesitant, but he offers his hand out, shakes it quickly before retracting it. 

“Sehun,” he says quietly, and he turns to Kyungsoo. 

“And I’m Kyungsoo.” He gives Junmyeon a soft smile, and Junmyeon gives him back a blinding white smile, exceptionally handsome. Sehun shakes that thought away. “I’m glad we’re paired.” 

“Same here,” Junmyeon says. “I’ve been waiting a long time.” 

“How many tests has it been?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“Too many,” Junmyeon smiles. “But I’m ready to get started.” 

“Yeah, same here,” Kyungsoo says. “Should we…,” and he double taps his bracer, stares at the time for a minute, “I don’t know; do you want to head to Second together?” 

“Sounds good to me,” Junmyeon says, and strangely, Sehun can’t look away from him, feels like they’ve been stuck together with adhesive. “Should I lead the way?” 

Kyungsoo waves out a hand, a nonverbal _by all means_ , and Junmyeon looks between them before he turns his back, starts to walk out. 

Sehun immediately looks at Kyungsoo. 

“He seems nice, right?” Kyungsoo says. 

“He’s already hit _Black_?”

“He’s capable,” Kyungsoo says. “You can’t get to Black unless you’ve already completed a ton of missions so he’s got wins under his belt. That’s a good thing.” 

“Yeah, but high rank doesn’t mean anything,” Sehun says nervously. “What if— 

Kyungsoo pats Sehun on the back reassuringly, interrupting Sehun’s thoughts. “It’ll be okay.” He smiles at Sehun, one of the rare smiles where he shows all his teeth. “Right?” 

“He’s not Minseok,” Sehun says. 

“No,” Kyungsoo agrees. “He’s someone else. And that’s okay.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, huffing, “I guess.”  
  


♄

The cafeteria is exceptionally clean and, as always, smells amazing. The Agency prides itself on the resources it has, on the station and the accommodations. If there is one thing Sehun cannot criticize about The Agency, it's the accommodations. The cabins are plush, they have plenty of options through the ent-units, and the food… suffice it to say, the runners are a necessity for some agents who like to overindulge.

As of late, Sehun has not had much of an appetite, but feeling quite drained from the retest, he fills up his tray with as much as he can get. Two cartons of vitadrink in hydramelon and razz flavor, butterbreads slathered with jam and nutspread, liquimeals made from pork and cabbage, pocket sandwiches wrapped in rice paper filled with soft white cheese, thin slices of jerky and spicy sauce. He also snags a handful of pepchocs. He and Kyungsoo love those. 

“Wow,” Kyungsoo says, looking at Sehun’s full tray. He sits next to him on the bench, bumps his shoulder into Sehun. “Seems like you’re hungry.” 

Sehun pushes a couple of the pepchocs over to Kyungsoo with a careless hand. 

“Be quiet,” Sehun gripes, but he smiles as he jabs a straw through one of the liquimeals, sucks it down. It tastes like soy and red pepper, delicious, perfectly blended. He finishes it in three big gulps, and his stomach already feels a bit better, a bit calmer than before. “I don’t remember it tasting so good.” 

“Because you haven’t eaten a proper meal in so long,” Kyungsoo says. “I’ve been telling you to keep to your schedules.” 

“Sometimes I’m just not hungry,” Sehun says. 

“Sometimes you need to eat anyway.” He spears a stalk of asparoli onto his spork, eats it quickly. “You can’t always rely on those injections.” 

“I know that.” He looks down at his tray, feels vaguely sick again. Why does he take things so hard? “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Kyungsoo says, and he rests his hand on Sehun’s back. “You’re doing fine.” 

Junmyeon clatters down to the table on the bench across from them, smiling. 

“Hi,” he says. “What are we talking about?” 

“Nothing,” Sehun says quickly. 

“No one says _nothing_ like that unless they’re talking about the person that just walked up,” Junmyeon says, and there is a stupid sort of amusement, like he finds it entertaining being the odd one out. “Were you talking about me?” 

“No,” Sehun says, brow furrowing. “Why would you assume that?” 

“Why wouldn’t I assume that?” Junmyeon says, and he picks up his utensil, stabs a stalk of flash-frozen broccolini. He gestures with it, pointing it between Sehun and Kyungsoo. “You two… you’ve got history. How many missions did you finish? How many times have you gotten commendations? You’ve got the highest compatibility of any agents in this place, I bet.” 

Junmyeon keeps talking, words that sound like _newcomer_ and _make up_ and _time_ , but Sehun can barely hear him. The reference to the scores makes Sehun’s stomach clench uncomfortably, so violently that he feels like vomiting, so he shoves his tray away, colliding with Junmyeon’s, knocking his cartons over. 

Junmyeon’s eyes go wide, and he starts to splutter, quickly righting the tray, taking Sehun’s hand in his. 

“Wh—” 

“I’m gonna go get an injection,” Sehun says. “I’m not hungry. Sorry, I’ll just—” 

The rest of the cafeteria is loud with chatter, and it swallows up the sound of Junmyeon calling his name. No one chases after him, and Sehun doesn’t look back, runs back to his cabin and throws himself into bed, stupid, angry tears falling onto the blankets.  
  


♄

He wakes, and when he sits up, there are a few people in the cabin with him. He ignores them the same way they ignore him, getting up with a stretch.

Rubbing at his face, he pads over to the back, steps into the medmach, rolls up his sleeve, and presses the button. The scan is lightning fast, the samples over and done within a minute, and it displays his blood panel in a green h-gram. 

_  
UA, DAILY  
SG 1.008  
pH 7.0  
WBC E NEGATIVE  
PRO NEGATIVE  
GLU NEGATIVE  
KET NEGATIVE  
B MET PANEL  
TOT. PRO 7.5  
ALB. 4.5  
GLOB 3.0  
FOL 2.6  
VB12 211.3  
3GLYC 20  
HDL 44  
LDL 63  
GLU 60  
_

“Low glucose,” the machine reads in a happy voice, and the needle injects him without another word. 

He breathes out, feels his body settling, and once the injection is complete, he exits the mach, feeling less shaky than when he entered. 

But he crosses to his bunk, and he sees Kyungsoo on his bed. It is a terrible image, much too close to what Sehun’s imagined, and he rolls his eyes. 

“Wipe off the blood, at least,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun looks down at his arm, at the trickle of blood that threatens to fall to the floor. Sehun absently wipes at it, licks it away before pulling his sleeve back down. Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose at him. “Gross.” 

“What are you doing here?” Sehun asks, and the other people in the cabin don’t look over at them, mind their own business. 

“Coming to check on you,” Kyungsoo says. “Obviously.” 

“I don’t need to be checked on.” 

Kyungsoo pats Sehun’s bed, and Sehun, ever-loyal, sits next to him. 

“Everyone needs to be checked on once in a while,” Kyungsoo tells him. “It’s okay.” 

_It isn’t okay_ , Sehun thinks. _Nothing’s okay. I can’t get a hold on myself. I can’t stop myself from feeling things too much. From remembering what it was like. The acid in the air. The way his dead eyes stopped blinking. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about us. The survivors. Have we grown apart because of this? Will we keep growing further apart until there’s nothing left between us?_

“Stop thinking so hard,” Kyungsoo smiles. 

“I’m not.” 

Kyungsoo nudges into him, and Sehun nudges back, and from across the room, someone’s ent-unit screams with a laugh track. Sehun looks over, watches the agent stare blankly at the screen. 

“He didn’t know,” Kyungsoo says. “He didn’t see our score.” 

“I don’t care if he did,” Sehun says. 

“You care.” 

“No, I don’t,” Sehun says, and it sounds like a thin lie stretched impossibly thinner even to his own ears. “He should just keep his mouth shut.” 

“How are we going to get to know him if he keeps his mouth shut?” Kyungsoo asks. “What did I tell you before? The scores don’t matter. Nothing matters. We have to make this work. Understand?” He grabs Sehun’s hand, and the touch is warm, comforting. “We’re back together, okay? You did what you were supposed to do. And now, we get to do what we said we’d do.” 

Sehun shuts his eyes, and he squeezes Kyungsoo’s hand in his. “You promise?” He looks at Kyungsoo, feels tears burning in his eyes. “You think we can do it?” 

“We’ve got each other,” Kyungsoo says. “We can do anything.” 

_We couldn’t save him_ , Sehun thinks. _We can’t do_ everything.  
  


♄

Sehun wakes the next morning, and as he is standing in the shower machine, he thinks about the Night Mare. It made no sense for the monstrosity to be on an abandoned planet. There is a hunger in each of the monsters, insatiable and wild, the kind that bars them from living in harmony. What would the Night Mare want with crumbling cities and markets long empty? What could it have been searching for in such a place? Something to destroy? Something to kill?

They got in the crossfire, and Minseok paid the price. 

Sehun closes his eyes as the winds dry his skin, his wet hair. There’s something there. There must have been. Atrocities don’t just appear on abandoned planets. They don’t just hide away and wait. It had to have been looking. Searching. On a hunt. 

By the time he gets to his locker, stepping into his jumpsuit and zipping it up on his body, he’s got two messages on his bracer. He swipes to the first, sees Kyungsoo’s familiar number. 

_Morning_ , he writes. _We should meet in the quad after First. See you soon._

Sehun smiles at the message, and it takes him back to the first time he, Kyungsoo, and Minseok met, all sitting cross-legged on the turf, smiling shyly at each other as they went around in a circle, showing h-grams of their staves. He remembers looking at Kyungsoo’s, black metal and studded with twin pentagonal prisms of hydrosteel at the top and bottom, and he remembers being so intimidated by him. 

He is so beautiful. He is so smart. He is so kind. And Sehun has never loved anyone the way he loves Kyungsoo. From the very start, Sehun knew Kyungsoo was the end of his world. 

Sehun blinks away the haze in his eyes, and he swipes to the next message. He squints at the number before he realizes that it must belong to Junmyeon, of course. The 82 number. He commits it to memory before sliding it open. 

_Sorry about yesterday. Hope to apologize in person at First._

Sehun’s stomach twists, and he slides the message away. He opens the door to the locker, looks at himself in the mirror as the rest of the agents around him dress, meander around the room, mingle. 

Kyungsoo told him that they had to make it work, and he refuses to let Kyungsoo down. He fixes his hair, brushes it back out of his face. Shuts the door. 

Sehun taps at his bracer, highlights Junmyeon’s agent number until his information displays. _Cabin A231._ He double taps, and it shows Sehun a map. He’s not far. Resting in his cabin. _Good_ , Sehun thinks. _A chance for me to fix the mess I’ve made._

Sehun thinks about Minseok. Thinks about the way he loved him. Maybe the love will come here, too.  
  


♄

Sehun walks down the halls, eerily quiet before quadrant A’s First is served, and he passes by A225, A227, and A229 before stopping in front of A231. The door is shut, but when Sehun presses his thumb against the scanner, the door yields for him, the metal panels parting. There are a few agents lounging, a few talking amongst themselves, a few utilizing ent-units, the canned laugh tracks enough to bring a smile or two. Sehun looks around, looks for Junmyeon.

He can’t find him. 

Sehun looks down at his bracer, shakes his wrist before swiping back to Junmyeon’s message, tapping his number again and holding it for information. It says he should be here. He looks up, looks around, and then— 

“Sehun!” 

Startled, Sehun whips around. Junmyeon is standing there behind him, his bunk tucked into the recessed corner of the room. 

“O-Oh,” Sehun says, and he bows his head a little. “Sorry. I didn’t—” 

“You’re just about the last person I imagined to see here,” Junmyeon smiles. “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m happy you’re here.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, and he holds his hands behind his back, feeling weirdly shy as he stares at his shoes. “I’m… look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I know I came off as rude.” 

“You don’t need to apologize.” And Sehun looks up, sees the warmth in Junmyeon’s eyes that immediately makes Sehun look back to the floor. “Losing a partner… I can only imagine.” 

Sehun feels the back of his neck go hot the way it always does when someone brings it up, when someone offers him pity. But he needs that pity now when it gives him an excuse for being a piece of fucking shit, so he keeps his mouth shut, bites his lip. 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun mutters. “It’s been hard.” Suddenly, there is a hand on his shoulder, and Sehun wrenches away from it before he even realizes he’s done so. Junmyeon opens his mouth, probably for an apology, but Sehun interrupts him. “I don’t… I don’t like when people touch me. Sorry.” 

“Hey, it was my fault,” Junmyeon says. “I won't do it again. I can respect boundaries. I just… wanted to offer you a bit of comfort, that's all.” 

_A bit of comfort_ , Sehun thinks. _A quick death so that I can be where I belong. With Minseok._

He tries to sweep those feelings, those emotions from himself. Focuses on the lessons they taught for negativity. For the swirling vortex of guilt, rage, loneliness, heartbreak. He shuts his eyes, breathes in and holds it in his chest, breathes it out. He channels Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo was always better at this kind of thing. Kyungsoo knows what’s best for him. 

“If this is going to work, I need to be more open,” Sehun says. “But I know… I know things aren’t going to happen overnight, all right?” 

“A-All right,” Junmyeon repeats. “Yeah, of course not.” 

“But I’m gonna… I’m gonna try.” He breathes in, holds it in his chest. Breathes it out. “I’m sorry if it takes me a while to get used to this.” 

“Totally understandable,” Junmyeon says quickly. “And if you need anything, if I can do anything to make the transition go more smoothly…” 

His response is millisecond-quick. He always got high marks for reactions. 

“There is something,” Sehun says sharply.

“Shoot.” 

“Two things,” Sehun corrects. 

“Okay.” 

“We wanna go for the Night Mare again,” Sehun tells him. “D-Do you consent?” 

Junmyeon gives him a smile. “I consent.” The smile widens. “What’s the second thing?” 

“Don’t bring up the scores.” 

“I won’t,” Junmyeon says. Sehun lets his shoulders fall as he relaxes, and Junmyeon’s smile goes flat. “You can always tell me if I’m doing something that… something that hurts you. We’re—like it or not, we’re in this together now, right?” 

He remembers Minseok saying something like this, reminiscent of it. Remembers Minseok telling him that he’d be there to look out for him. That they had to have each other’s backs. He was so young then. _Where’s all the time gone?_

“R-Right,” Sehun says. “Together.” 

“So I’m gonna do my best for you,” Junmyeon says, and an aborted movement draws Sehun’s eye. Junmyeon’s hand flexes at his side. Sehun swallows his spit. “As long as you’re doing your best for me, then that’s all we can hope for.” 

“Yeah.” He blinks away the wetness at his eyes. “Yeah, agreed.” Sehun looks at the door. “Sorry to barge in. I just… I wanted to get things settled before First.” 

“Of course,” Junmyeon says. “And remember, anything I can do.” 

Sehun nods, and Junmyeon gives him a smile, full of light. Sehun looks away, waves back towards Junmyeon. 

“See you at First,” he says, and then over his shoulder. “Did Kyungsoo message you about afterwards?” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon smiles. “He’s in the C wings, right? They eat First a bit later than us, so we’d probably have some down time in between. Wanna… I mean, I don’t wanna push you, but—” 

Sehun turns, strangely attracted to the carefulness in his voice. It's like a thrall, Junmyeon's charm, and Sehun struggles against it. 

“It’s okay,” Sehun says. “What is it?” 

Junmyeon smiles shyly at him, shrugs one of his shoulders. 

“Wanna maybe go to the library?” He looks so vulnerable, like Sehun has the power to hurt him too. Sehun’s stomach flips, and he nods sharply. “Great. See you at First.” 

“Yeah, see you there.” 

Sehun walks out of the cabin, walks back to his own. Kyungsoo would be proud. At least, he thinks so.  
  


♄

He doesn't try to eat a lot during First. He gets a shake, some En-supplements, and water. He sits at the table where Junmyeon is already seated, and Junmyeon looks up at him happily.

"Hey," Junmyeon says. "Did you get lost?" 

Sehun squints at him as he shakes the bio-bottle, twists the cap of the first En-supplement, artificially flavored and tasting like chocolate and rocks. He licks his lips after he's drained half of it, looking at Junmyeon.

"Do you not talk much?" Junmyeon asks. 

"Not much," Sehun says. 

"You talk to Kyungsoo, though." 

"Yeah," Sehun says, and he takes another sip, grits his teeth over the taste. "Yeah, we've been friends for a while, so…" 

"That's good," Junmyeon says. "Everyone needs someone." 

"I guess." 

Junmyeon looks down, seemingly out of words, and he gets to work on his food, which Sehun is thankful for. Junmyeon doesn't push, doesn't prod much, only makes little comments about what Sehun's picked out as compared to the last Second they shared. 

"I've lost weight," Sehun says because his body, his health is a topic that he can elaborate on. A topic that's relevant to their triad. "I have to start replacing it." 

"Don't push yourself too hard," Junmyeon says. "We've got plenty of time." 

It's different, hearing that. So much of the advice he gets is to get through it. Persevere. Keep going. Keep moving. And yet—

"We wanna get moving," Sehun says, and he shakes and cracks the seal on the second En-supplement. "As soon as possible." 

"Yeah?" 

Sehun looks at Junmyeon who just sips at his water like it's nothing.

"Yeah," Sehun says. "What, is that not what you're interested in?" 

"I just wanna make sure we're capable of handling anything that comes at us. I know you were caught off guard last time, but now we can find out what we’re really up against," Junmyeon says, and he looks down at his tray. "I think that means spending a bit of time getting to know each other, a bit of time studying the atrocity, a bit of time _training_ together…" 

"You're a Black suit?" Sehun says. 

Junmyeon looks down at his clothes. 

“Yes?” 

"But you're so… finicky,” Sehun frowns. “Aren't Black suits supposed to be able to handle anything? Aren’t you supposed to be, like, at the top of your game?" 

Junmyeon looks up into Sehun's eyes, and there is something strange about him, something that Sehun can't put his finger on. He's a little too perfect, a little too well designed. He is gorgeous, smart, careful, doesn't betray too much. And it makes Sehun wonder. Makes him wonder. Is his hair dyed? 

"I'm a Black suit _because_ I'm finicky. Because I’m at the top of my game." He nods at Sehun's hand, the second En-supplement still mostly full in his hand. "Come on. If we wanna get some library time in before we go to the quad, we're gonna have to finish up here." 

Sehun lifts the lip of the bottle to his mouth, and he pauses, studying the way Junmyeon eats. Meticulous. Diligent.  
  


♄

He grabs his Agency-issued backpack, the same dark charcoal grey as his suit, and he slings it over his shoulder, meets Junmyeon in the agreed-upon area. He walks in second, after Junmyeon is already seated, so Sehun crosses the quiet room, sits down at a desk close by.

Immediately, the screen in front of him awakens. He presses his thumb against the scanner, and then, the screen displays his most recent rents. He bites his lip as he sees the Sovilia title there, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile as he remembers the way it shattered. He deletes it from his history, and he begins to swipe through the new reads. 

"What kind of things do you like to read about?" Junmyeon asks, a hushed voice. 

Sehun looks around, but there's no one else in the abandoned library. Just the pair of them. 

“History,” Sehun answers. “Nonfiction. Instructional.” He looks over in time to see Junmyeon make a face at his display. “What?” 

His face is haunting as he is bathed in the orange light of the monitor, and Sehun wonders about him. Where he came from. What he’s been through. He’s so normal. So unaffected. What kind of person makes it to Black rank without ghosts at their backs? Is he running the way Sehun is running? 

“You’re a little boring,” Junmyeon answers, and he shoots a glance over, couples it with a wry smile. “No… entertaining options? All the agents I talked to said you’re always reading.” 

Sehun feels a pulse of something in his chest, and he doesn’t know if it’s nervousness or just sheer horror that people around him have a _concept_ of him, one that doesn’t necessarily line up with his concept of himself. 

“I mostly study,” Sehun admits, and a thin layer of shame coats his eyes, makes his vision hazy so that he has to blink it away. “Yeah, I guess I’m… boring.” 

There is quiet, the kind of quiet that belongs in a library, and Sehun stares at his hands, waits for it to all quiet inside him before moving forward and grabbing a reader, but before he’s able to, Junmyeon has already made a selection, the sounds of the machinery whooshing and whirring. He looks so casual as he grabs the reader out of the shoot. 

The reader is the same as all the rest, thin with a slick, crystal-clear screen, but when Junmyeon hands it to Sehun with a smile, it feels much different. 

“Give something fun a try,” Junmyeon says. “You never know. You might like it.” 

Sehun stares down at the reader, sees Junmyeon’s name flash on the screen. 

“You should put this back,” Sehun says, and he tries to shove the reader back into Junmyeon’s hands. “You shouldn’t be loaning readers to other people.” 

Junmyeon steps back, and it is a challenge that Sehun can’t back down from. Sehun stands from his chair. Crosses over to him. 

“Why not?” Junmyeon asks. 

“It explicitly says so,” Sehun says. “On the displays. On the monitors. _Do not share readers with other agents._ ” 

“And you’ve never shared one before?” 

Sehun squints at him, brows furrowed. “No, of _course_ I haven’t. Why would I? I can just as easily go and access the same materials.” 

“Not _all_ the same materials, though, right?” 

“N-No, I guess not,” Sehun says. “But I’m nearly at Grey 4. There isn’t much that’s off limits to me now.” 

“No,” Junmyeon smiles. “Not much.” 

He nods down at the reader, and Sehun looks down at it, lets it come to life in his hands. The display shifts, reads _The History of The Agency: Excerpts from Interviews with the Board of Directors_. 

“A history book?” Sehun smiles. “I thought I was boring because I liked history.” 

“Well, I’m a little boring, too,” Junmyeon says, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe that’s why we found each other in the test. Maybe we were _supposed_ to.” He nods to the reader. “Go on. Take it.” 

Sehun blinks a few times before shoving it into his backpack. He watches as Junmyeon smiles, settles back into his desk, and he is overwhelmed by the desire to know this person, to learn more about him. 

“D—never mind,” Sehun says, and he turns back to his display before he can think twice about asking. 

Junmyeon’s gaze doesn’t shift from his own display, but out of Sehun’s peripheral vision, he can see his face twitch into a smile. 

“Go on,” Junmyeon says, and he pokes at the screen a few more times, readers piling up at the end of the shoot. “Ask what you were going to ask.” 

“I was just… I was just wondering, do you like any other types of readers?” Sehun asks, and he swipes at the screen back to the instructional manuals before settling on a high level spell book that he’s never perused before. “I mean, other than history?” 

“I like romance,” Junmyeon says easily, like it isn’t something to be ashamed of. “The trashier, the better.” 

Of course, Sehun knows there are those kind of options available to them, especially at lower ranks, but he assumed that agents grew out of that behavior as they progressed. He’s never seen someone so high-ranked before, and Junmyeon is so… different from what he imagined. 

“Are they really that enjoyable?” Sehun asks, the curiosity rolling through him. There is much to be curious about when it comes to Junmyeon, he’s found. 

Junmyeon doesn’t even look over when he speaks, but Sehun watches him, studies him. There is something _off_ about him. Something too… _something._

“What, you’ve never read one?” It is a teasing question, and Sehun lets the spell work on him, feeling appropriately teased. Junmyeon taps at the display again, another reader falling onto the pile before he looks over at Sehun, catches him staring. “You wanna borrow one of those, too?” 

Sehun is sure that he looks horrified by the suggestion because Junmyeon immediately starts to laugh, a happy sound that echoes in the empty library. Furiously, Sehun tries to hush him, and eventually it works, Junmyeon scooping up his pile of readers into his bag and heading to the honeycomb, a series of hexagonal seats in the center of the giant room. 

Sehun joins him once he’s finished, and they spend the rest of the morning reading in silence, only the slight hushed sound of their fingers over the glass to break it all up. He loses track of time in all honesty, studying the Crystym spell, the applications and the dangers of it and occasionally glancing up over his reader to see Junmyeon lazing in one of the cushioned chairs opposite him. 

It is Junmyeon who tells him that it is time to go to the quad to meet Kyungsoo, and Sehun is momentarily dazed. He didn’t think it would be so easy, but then, he supposes that they have a high compatibility for a reason. On the walk to the quad, he tries to swallow over all that acid, all the vitriol, all the _It shouldn’t have been you. You shouldn’t be here. Maybe he would like Minseok better._  
  


♄

The Agency is a series of four buildings that meet at the corners to form a square, and in the center of that square, there is a quad for the agents to work outside. The air is acrid, tastes like sharp metal, but Sehun has learned to like it over the years. It reminds him, distantly, of the way the air on Junia tasted. Like storms. Like acid rain.

The turf of the quad is so lifelike and green, soft underneath his feet, that he feels the urge to remove his shoes just to walk barefoot through the grass like he did when he was a child. Junia had the best summers. Mild, but sunny and bright. He remembers lying in the grass all day long, letting the sun bless him tan. Things were easier. Better, maybe. 

He and Junmyeon pad out onto the quad with their packs strapped across their backs, and he ignores the daydreams. Things weren’t any easier. He was just too young to understand how bad things were. He found joy in small things. Grass and flutters and homemade soup. 

“I wonder what he wants to do,” Junmyeon says, and he sits on the turf, crosses his legs. “Maybe talk?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says, an honest answer. 

He sits next to Junmyeon, leaves a healthy distance between them. 

Junmyeon doesn’t say anything else, and Sehun is thankful for the spit of silence. He should go into his recollections, see how he managed this the first time around. Was he as nervous as he is now? He couldn’t have been. He was young. Eager to begin. Wanted desperately to prove himself. Now, there is nothing to prove. Now, he wants nothing more than to recede into the background of his own life. 

“Hey.” 

Sehun looks over at him. Junmyeon gives him a timid smile, and Sehun hates that he is so beautiful. Hates that he seems so perfect. There must be something wrong with him. He’s too… too good at knowing when Sehun is plummeting. Already.

“What?” Sehun asks, Junmyeon still looking back at him. “Do you need something?” 

“Just wanted to see what you thought of all this,” Junmyeon says, and he straightens out his legs in front of him, leans back on one hand as he gestures vaguely with the other. 

Sehun looks around, tries to find whatever Junmyeon is referring to. “All of what?” He searches the sky, doesn’t see anything but the cold blue of space. He looks back at Junmyeon, furrows his brow. “What do you mean?” 

“The Agency,” Junmyeon says casually. “Your contract. The magic and everything.” 

“What about it?” 

“What do you think?” Junmyeon asks, and he is too good at feigning casualness, Sehun thinks. “Any thoughts?” 

“None in particular,” Sehun says primly. 

“I have thoughts,” Junmyeon says. 

“Good for you,” Sehun says, and he folds his arms. “I don’t want to hear them.” 

“Eventually.” Junmyeon smiles brightly. “Eventually, you will want to hear my thoughts.” 

“I hate to shatter your atmosphere, but that is highly unlikely.” 

“Oh, I don’t know. I have a feeling I will inevitably worm my way into your heart.” 

Sehun doesn’t say anything else because he’s already learning that the more he gives to Junmyeon, the more he’ll take. Sehun is not inclined to give him any more than he is currently giving, so instead of thoughtlessly egging him on, Sehun stares out at the agents who lounge on the quad, some with staves across their laps or laying alongside their bodies on the turf. They all stare up at the sky, and Sehun joins them, looks up at swirling blue, green, and gold. 

There are three bright blue stars amid a chorus of red, the blue fresh and new and hotter than all the rest. They make the day bright, beautiful. It is nothing like home, but Sehun has learned to appreciate it a little. 

“Pretty, right?” Junmyeon says. 

Sehun watches him even though he doesn’t want to: Junmyeon lets his hand slip out from underneath him, but his core works as he slowly lowers himself to the turf, folding his hands behind his head, staring up at the glittering galaxy overhead. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “It’s okay.” 

“ _Okay_ ,” Junmyeon scoffs. “You took those lessons pretty seriously, didn’t you?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sehun asks indignantly. 

“Just you’re very… reserved.” Junmyeon turns, closes one eye as he squints at Sehun. “Very _restrained_.” 

“Selflessness is the foundation of our magic. Of course I’m restrained. You lose the body and the mind, and you live through the energy. That’s how it works. That's how it all works.” 

“Is it?” 

Sehun furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?” He scoots closer to Junmyeon. "Our first lessons are on the concept of energy and the way it moves through us and everything else. Our _very_ first lessons. Of course that’s how it works.” 

“But _is_ it?” 

“You’re being ridiculous,” Sehun huffs. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon agrees, and he shuts his eyes. “Maybe.” 

Sehun stares at him, expecting more of a challenge, and as though a hand was wrapped around his waist, pulling him down, Sehun lies beside Junmyeon and stares up at the stars. 

He thinks, dreams, remembers. Things will be different, but different isn’t bad. He’s got to focus on what he’s learned, on his lessons. If he trusts in the words, he can survive this. He can survive anything. 

It isn’t long before the light of the stars is blocked out of his vision, Kyungsoo peering down at him, looking unusually tall at such an angle. Sehun smiles up at him, gets a little smirk in exchange. 

“Comfortable?” he asks. 

“Very,” Junmyeon answers. “What did you have in mind for this morning?” 

“Thought we’d start with a bit of _Get To Know You_ training,” Kyungsoo suggests with a grin. “What do you say?” 

Kyungsoo sticks his hand out to Junmyeon, pulls him up off the turf swiftly before doing the same with Sehun. He is so much stronger than Sehun remembers. So much fiercer. Death will do that, Sehun thinks. Death changes you, or at the very least, it has changed them.  
  


♄

They walk through the east building, their footsteps echoing in the hall as a trio, but not yet a triad. It’s an important distinction, Sehun thinks. They won’t officially be named a triad until they’ve completed their first mission, and Sehun already knows what they’ll have to defeat in order to claim that title. It won’t be easy. In fact, it might kill them all.

They twist and turn through the hallways past administrative and learning rooms until they are standing in front of a lifter. Kyungsoo steps forward, presses his thumb to the scanner, and the doors part for them. 

They step inside the cab in silence, and Kyungsoo presses the appropriate button, sending them sinking to the depths of the building. When they step out into the hall, it is noticeably dimmer, lit only by halogens. 

When they get to the staff room, Sehun is concerned. Staves are such an integral piece of them, the very representation of their beings, their fucking souls. And he’s known Junmyeon for less than two days, and he’s just… supposed to show him? Supposed to let him feel all the magic he’s put into it? All the love and the care? All the strength that he has? 

He wrung himself dry so that he could create it. Sixteen years old and shaping the core with his hands and his heart. He’s never looked back. Not once. 

They stop outside the room of staves, and Kyungsoo hangs back. Sehun looks at him, waits for his command. He’s gotta stop doing that, he thinks. Gotta stop making it so obvious that he hangs on every fucking syllable.

“Okay, you two get the staves. I’m gonna go up and book a permanent room for the next month or so,” Kyungsoo says. “What do you think, six days a week?” 

“Sounds good,” Junmyeon agrees. “Try and get one with the h-gram bodies. I hate the physiforms.” 

“But physiforms are more difficult,” Sehun says. 

“Precisely.” 

Kyungsoo grins at them before turning, shouting “You know my password, Sehun!” over his shoulder. He turns to Junmyeon, who looks at him expectantly. 

“Shall we?” 

Sehun rolls his eyes as he steps into the large room, Junmyeon behind him. It is brightly lit, smells like polished metal. The long, thin compartments are bolted to the wall, each with a scanner to the left underneath the nameplate. The doors to the compartments have a thin seam running down the middle, and Sehun runs his index finger down one, so cold it almost feels wet. 

He scans down the list of names, searching for his compartment. It’s been so long, but he finds it after a moment. He presses his thumb against the scanner, and the door pops open. He grabs it from the compartment, marvels at the work. He likes the new version. It feels… appropriate. 

He hears Junmyeon’s door pop open, and he turns to see Junmyeon grabbing his own staff from its compartment, a small smile on his face. His staff… it’s brilliant, shining and gold, rainbows of light shooting from the top as it turns in the light. Sehun blinks, thinks maybe he’s dreaming, but no, the staff remains, and Junmyeon turns to him, the staff clutched in his hands. It is a rainstone, Sehun realizes. Carved from the core of a lesser planet now resting at the top of Junmyeon’s staff. 

He seems very much a Black suit, then. Powerful. Strong. Impossibly good. 

“All right?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says quietly. “We should go.” 

He walks to Kyungsoo’s compartment, bypasses the scanner with Kyungsoo’s fifteen-digit password, and grabs his staff as well. He makes for the door, but Junmyeon stops him. 

“Wait,” Junmyeon says, and he smiles at Sehun’s staff before flicking his eyes back up to meet Sehun’s. “Can I see?” 

_No,_ Sehun wants to say. _No, don’t come any closer. No, don’t look into me. Don’t see what I’ve got inside me, deep in my heart._

“Minseok always said you look with your eyes.” 

“Sounds like a teacher I had back in the day,” Junmyeon says. He sets his staff down, and he nods towards Sehun’s. “Can I?” 

He only has a split second to make the decision, but in truth, there is no decision to make. He is committed to this. He promised. 

Sehun tentatively hands his staff to Junmyeon, who runs his hands over it reverently.

"Silverstar," Junmyeon says with a hushed voice as he stares at the freshly crafted spike. His eyes shoot up to meet Sehun's, and he gives him a little smile. "Clever."

"It's… well, it's not that clever," Sehun says.

"People overlook it in favor of rarer materials," Junmyeon says, and slowly, he stands the staff tall between them, the silverstar arrowhead glowing as it reacts to them, to their connection. "Thrownoir. Red rathnium. Lowplum... they all have their merits, but it takes someone special to find beauty in what's most plentiful." He runs a careful finger over the razor-sharp edge of the blade, and the silverstar goes blue and green, densely packed with the light of magic. "Look at that. Gorgeous."

It puts a flare of pride in Sehun's stomach, and he stamps it out as he grabs the staff from Junmyeon's hands.

"We should get to work," Sehun says. "Stop fraternizing."

"Fraternizing is the whole point of these training sessions," Junmyeon argues. He picks up his staff from where it rests on the wall, whips it around a few times before tucking it neatly under his arm with a smirk. "Isn't fraternizing basically a class they make agents take?"

Sehun rolls his eyes, but he feels a pressure at his back which makes him turn around with wide eyes. 

"He's right," Kyungsoo says, and he nudges his shoulder into Sehun's with a smile. "We should get to know each other a bit more. Wanna go see the room?"

Sehun looks at him, tries to silently ask for help, but Kyungsoo is smiling at Junmyeon, the two of them beyond handsome, and Sehun huffs, stomps his foot before he exits the room, only looking back once he realizes they aren’t following. 

“Are you coming or not?” Sehun asks, and they both smile at each other, following close behind, the _thip_ ing sound of the staves room door the only sign that they’ve left. 

By the time they reach the lifter, Junmyeon and Kyungsoo have caught up to him, and they go up several floors before they reach the training bays. When they step out, it smells like cleaning fluid, a scent that Sehun has learned to love. It’s much better than the smell of sweat. They walk down the hall, windows to the training rooms providing glimpses of what transpires inside. Some rooms are empty, of course, but some have agents solo-training, some have would-be triads trying to improve their compatibility scores. Some have teachers, dressed in all navy blue, and they instruct the newest recruits. The newest agents. Some of them are so young, Sehun thinks. He can’t ever remember being so young. 

“Here,” Kyungsoo says, and he stops them before a door labeled _TTR-172_. He presses his thumb against the scanner, and the door slides open from the left. “Here we are.” 

Sehun looks around. It looks exactly like their old training room, pure white and padded at the ceiling, floor, and walls. There’s a mount on the ceiling, a hub for the h-grams, and he stares at it, thinking about the first time they sparred. The way Kyungsoo knocked him on his ass. The way he fell in love, just like that. 

“Maybe we could talk?” Junmyeon offers. “Just to get to know each other?” 

Kyungsoo looks at him, nods, and Sehun sighs, steps forward. 

He sits, legs crossed on the padded floor.

Junmyeon looks down at him fondly, and Sehun looks away, grabs Kyungsoo's hand and pulls him to the ground.

"Come on, join us," Kyungsoo offers.

Junmyeon completes the circle, and Sehun stares awkwardly at the center of that circle, eyes low. He's never wanted to talk less in his entire life, but Kyungsoo keeps dragging him forward. If he's supposed to be here, then fine, but he won't give anymore than he absolutely needs to. His presence should be more than enough.

"Should we begin by saying a little bit about ourselves?" Junmyeon tries.

"That sounds like a good idea," Kyungsoo says. "I guess I can start?"

Sehun flicks his eyes up with enough time to see Junmyeon nodding his head eagerly, and Sehun's seen that expression before: new agents in the cafeteria once someone approaches them. Desperate to have someone to attach themselves to.

Sehun doesn't like that. Doesn't like that at all. He stares at his hands as his face goes red. 

"I was born on Genera in 2497. I'm 29 years old. My family, for centuries, they were ore traders, but Genera was getting weak because of the economy. I was one of six. We lived comfortably, though I knew of their struggles to keep us all fed. At my learning, a recruiter for The Agency showed us a video, and, well, it was easy to get excited about an opportunity like that," Kyungsoo smiles, shrugging a shoulder. "I said my goodbyes when I turned sixteen. I was on the next charter for The Agency." He claps his hands together. "That's, uh, that's pretty much it. The beginning at least."

Sehun has heard it all before, of course. Sehun knows Kyungsoo's mother's name, his father, his brothers and sisters. Knows the name of the learning program he was admitted to. Knows his favorite things to eat in the cafeteria. Knows his favorite languages. Knows what ent-options he favors. He knows everything there is to know about Kyungsoo, so this is all pointless.

“Sehun,” Kyungsoo prompts. “Wanna share?” 

"I, um… I was scouted," Sehun says. "That's it."

"Sehun," Kyungsoo scolds.

"I was scouted at thirteen," Sehun says, and he turns to Kyungsoo with a look. "Happy?"

"Not very," Kyungsoo says, furrowing his brow and waving his hand. "Elaborate."

"What is there to elaborate on?"

"Age, home planet, learning, family," he gestures. "That sort of thing."

"Age, 27. Home planet, Junia. Learning, typical cluster-faction. Family, the second of two sons," Sehun says. "Happy _now_?" 

"Extremely," Junmyeon interrupts. "Thanks for sharing." 

It settles warmly in Sehun's stomach, and he feels a bit of the residual warmth rise to the tips of his ears. He looks away. 

"Junmyeon," Kyungsoo says, "would you like to share now?" 

"Sure," Junmyeon says, and he shifts forward on the floor, and Sehun breathes in the acrid artioz that surrounds them. "I'm 33. I came at sixteen, just like you." He gestures to Kyungsoo, smiles at him. "It was a recruitment that got me, too." He looks down at his hands, folds them and twists them in his lap. "I saw the procurements, the accommodations, I saw the cabins, I saw… to be honest, I don't know what I saw. I was sort of a loner as a kid. I think I just wanted to expand my horizons." He looks up, a little smile on his face. "My parents died when I was young, so I guess I just wanted somewhere to belong." 

Kyungsoo reaches out, covers Junmyeon's hands with one of his own. 

"I'm sorry," Kyungsoo offers, and Kyungsoo looks at Sehun. 

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Sehun says. 

"It's okay," Junmyeon says. "It's been a long time. I've made my peace. At first, I think I wanted to find a way to be strong.” He huffs out a breath like he’s laughing at himself. “I didn’t think hard enough about what this would cost.” He shakes his head. “The price I’d pay with my time here.” 

It is an incredibly vulnerable moment, his chest peeled open, and Sehun looks away, doesn’t prod into it any more. He doesn’t want to hear things like that. Things that make Junmyeon seem so human and breakable. He wants someone indestructible. Someone who makes him stronger. Someone like Kyungsoo. 

“What price?” Kyungsoo asks. “What do you mean?” 

Junmyeon gives him a stiff laugh, looks at him through his lashes. 

“Takes a lot out of you,” Junmyeon says, and he looks between the two of them. “You two know that better than most.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says stiffly. “We do.” 

And he looks at Kyungsoo, watches as his shoulders slump. Sehun mirrors him, lets his posture go, feels the weight of everything push him down, down, down. He shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe he should have waited. Maybe he should have let Kyungsoo walk away. Maybe… maybe this isn’t the life for him any longer. 

“I’m sorry,” Sehun says quietly. “We don’t have to talk about this.” 

“No,” Kyungsoo agrees. “We don’t. We can talk about something else.” 

“Sometimes, it’s better to talk about things that we don’t wanna talk about,” Junmyeon advises. “Clear the air. Get things out before they fester.” 

“That’s an interesting philosophy,” Kyungsoo says. “We can try… maybe a round of interexperience?” 

Sehun can’t think of anything he’d like less than that, and he glares at Kyungsoo for suggesting it. 

“Hey, that’s a fun idea,” Junmyeon says. “Wanna try now?” 

“Let’s do an hour set,” Kyungsoo suggests. “And then maybe we’ll give it a try.” 

The three of them stand, grab their staves, and Kyungsoo approaches the screen embedded in the wall, slick black glass among all the white. He keys in a couple things before turning back to them with a smile. 

“Ready?” 

Sehun widens his stance, braces his silverstar staff in his hands. 

“Ready,” he answers. 

Junmyeon brandishes his staff, the rainstone at the head shining its iridescence over everything as it spins through the air without the aid of his hand. He gives them both a smile as it comes down, tucks behind his arm, and not for the first time, Sehun is charmed by him against his will. 

“Ready,” Junmyeon answers. 

“All right,” Kyungsoo says, and he stands on Sehun’s left, leaving him flanked by the older agents. “Ready.” 

The first h-gram descends from the hub in the ceiling, a bright, rippling red ball of monstrous energy, all teeth and snarl, and Sehun looks to Kyungsoo, gets a nod. 

He raises his staff, focuses all his energy on the core. It shakes in his hands, the power glowing green and aquamarine, and he thinks the words _cut, slice, sever_ before the beam of blue light shoots from the sharpened arrowhead of his staff, bisecting the h-gram easily. 

“Nice,” Junmyeon praises, and the light of the spell circles around the hub waiting for the next h-gram to appear. It drops a second later, but the blade of the blue cuts through red before it even touches the ground. “Wow. Strong one, huh?” 

Sehun lets the spell return to him, the light jumping back into his staff, and he shrugs. It’s been a while, but he’s good at this. He knows what he’s doing. 

“Lemme try,” Junmyeon says, Sehun switching places with him as he steps into the lead position, and he shuts his eyes as he focuses. 

Sehun finds himself fascinated by the way Junmyeon focuses, so different from what he’s seen most agents do. Junmyeon seems to unwind, seems to unfurl into the spell, and when it shoots from his staff in a beam of ice white, five h-grams have gathered in a circle. 

Huge plants of crystal blister along the padded floor, multifaceted and glimmering in the light. They crawl upward with loud cracking sounds, and shatter through the h-grams as they approach, instantly decimating them, growing thick along the walls. The empty space of the room is slowly devoured by the crystals, the growth ravenous and hungry.

Both Sehun and Kyungsoo scramble backwards before Junmyeon casually waves his hand. Immediately, the crystals dissolve into glittering dust before Junmyeon waves his staff, the dust swirling into a vortex, returning whence it came. 

“S-Shit,” Sehun curses. “The… _Crystym_.” 

Junmyeon looks back and laughs when he sees Sehun plastered to the wall. 

“One of my favorites,” Junmyeon says with a smile, “as long as you know how to stop it.” 

“C-Could you teach me?” Sehun wonders. 

“I dunno,” Junmyeon says, smile turning wry, “ _can_ I?” 

Sehun rolls his eyes as Kyungsoo steps forward, and easily, Sehun shifts his focus back to the h-grams, each more terrible than the last. They gang up around Kyungsoo as he steps forward, the circle closing around him. It gives Sehun real fear, not the simulated kind, and his throat goes tight as he watches the red surge overwhelm and consume him. It gives him a visceral flashback, practically a recollection, and Sehun’s stomach starts to rise up into his throat before— 

Before Kyungsoo unleashes a ring of fire that disintegrates the h-grams with an air of superiority, a demonstration of his true abilities. Sehun breathes out, unaware that he was even _holding_ his breath, and the red wall falls to the floor, Kyungsoo smiling brightly at the two of them. 

Junmyeon erupts into a storm of applause, and Sehun rolls his eyes as he switches places with Kyungsoo.

It’s then, in the training, that the three of them start rolling, the hour passing by like a second. 

The room is practically destroyed by the time they’re done with it, the last of the h-grams disposed of, but Junmyeon is clinging to Kyungsoo, laughing at just how successful Kyungsoo’s Quadpluma Maneuver was. 

“I am telling you,” Junmyeon says, slapping Kyungsoo on the chest, “I have _never_ seen anyone pull that maneuver off. I mean, the way the feathers exploded. Those looked like fuckin’ razors.” 

“Practice makes perfect,” Kyungsoo says, and he walks back across the room before smiling at Junmyeon. “What do you think, go another hour?” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he rolls his shoulders back, resting his staff across the back of his neck. “Let’s go again.”  
  


♄

They find the flow that afternoon, and after that, they do not look back.

Kyungsoo’s schedule is switched after the first week, and their group takes all meals together. During open blocks, Sehun, Kyungsoo, and Junmyeon spend nearly all their time training and researching. TTR-172 becomes a second home to them. Sehun has never felt so good, his body, mind, and soul aching at the end of the day. It feels so much like it used to. In the beginning. 

He eats more. And more consistently. He feels Kyungsoo’s eyes on him, and that combined with Junmyeon’s gentle nudging makes him inclined to appease them. He fills his tray most days, feels less and less like a waste of space. The medmach reports that, over the course of the next month, he gains three and a half kilograms. He fills back out, bit by bit, centimeter by centimeter. Muscle that had dripped off his bones finds its way back to him. He stares at himself in the mirror, studies the way his body has changed. 

There are bruises, small wounds littering his extremities. They spar. They fight. And he tries his best to get better. He owes it to them to get better. 

In focused battle, they know each other well. Of course, it’s all simulated. Sehun points this out on multiple occasions, much to Junmyeon’s chagrin. 

They sit at Third that evening, the rest of the cafeteria filled to the brim with agents yammering on and on. 

“Well, of _course_ it’s simulated,” Junmyeon says. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real in its own sort of way.” 

“It’s different,” Sehun says, and he kicks Junmyeon under the table. Junmyeon yelps, and Sehun knows that the toe of his boot found the reddening bruise from earlier. “See? That was _real_ pain.” 

“I can get bruises from the h-grams, you know,” Junmyeon says. “They’re plenty capable of bruising me.” 

“Have you gotten any bruises?” Sehun asks. 

“No.” He smiles. “I’m too good.” 

“Exactly,” Sehun says. “We’re not challenging ourselves.” 

Junmyeon looks into Sehun’s eyes, and for a moment, Sehun wants to look away. Sure, they’ve gotten to know each other during sparring, during battles, but… but it’s not like that means they’re friends. It doesn’t mean he’s forgotten where he came from. 

“You’re right,” Junmyeon says. “If what you told me about the Night Mare is true—” 

“It is,” Sehun says. “We wouldn’t lie about something so important.” 

Junmyeon flicks his eyes over to Kyungsoo, back to Sehun. 

“Then you’re right,” Junmyeon admits. “We haven’t even begun to work, really. But—” 

“But what?” Sehun says. 

“But we had to start somewhere,” Kyungsoo interrupts. “If we want to take it down and not die in the process, then we all have to be on the same page. We all have to know what we’re up against and see if we can find out… I don’t know, find out _something_ about where it came from.” 

“Research,” Junmyeon says excitedly. “My favorite.” He taps the table before he stands, grabbing his tray. “Sehun, wanna come with me?” 

Sehun looks to Kyungsoo. “Go where?” He looks at Junmyeon. “What do you mean?”

“Gonna go get some readers for us,” Junmyeon says, and he nods at Sehun’s bag. “Didn’t grab mine this morning.” 

“Go on.” Kyungsoo smiles. “I’ll meet you guys in a reading room?” 

“You could come with us,” Sehun offers, silently begging for an accompaniment. 

But Kyungsoo ignores him, standing up and grabbing his tray. 

“I have something I gotta take care of,” Kyungsoo says. “But I’ll catch up with you. Message me when you’re good at the library, and I’ll make sure I get a room for us.” 

“Sounds good,” Junmyeon agrees, and he grabs Sehun by the sleeve in order to pull him away, but Sehun quickly shakes him off. “Ah, I forgot. So touchy.”  
  


♄

Sehun mostly just sits as Junmyeon types and taps at his display, the readers coming down the chute with a thunk. He deposits them into his bag, and Junmyeon occasionally glances back at him as he stuffs his bag full.

“What?” Sehun asks. 

“Nothing,” Junmyeon says, and there is a smile on his face. 

Sehun hates him. 

“Whatever you wanna say, just say it,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon looks at him, looks him up and down, but says nothing, only calling for more readers to fling themselves down into the chute for Sehun to grab. They go to the staff room after they’re finished at the library, and Sehun grabs Kyungsoo’s along with his own just in case they decide to train a little after research. Better to make one trip than two, he figures. 

It is only once they are walking back through the building that Junmyeon opens his mouth, says what he wants to say. 

“Sort of weird, huh?” 

Sehun looks at him. 

“What?” 

“Weird,” Junmyeon says. “This whole thing.” 

“No,” Sehun says. “Not really.” 

Junmyeon sighs as he tries to keep pace with Sehun. 

“Haven’t you ever wondered about them?” Junmyeon asks, and he grabs Sehun, pulls him to a stop, looks deeply into Sehun’s eyes, studying him closely, looking into his bones, into his blood. 

“About _whom_?” Sehun asks. 

“ _Whom_ ,” Junmyeon scoffs, and he lowers his voice as he gestures all around them, at the metalwork of the building. “ _Them_.” 

“What about them?” 

“Do you ever look in the lower levels?” Junmyeon asks, and his eyes glaze down Sehun’s neck, slow like a kiss. His gaze hovers by Sehun’s throat, the hint of skin showing at the open zipper of his jumpsuit. “Do you ever think about what they’re hiding down there?” 

“What are you _talking_ about?” Sehun squints. “There’s… there’s training rooms! And storage! Places to craft… staves. And rooms full of readers!” 

“Isn’t that just what they _want_ you to think?” 

Sehun is flabbergasted. How could they have formed a Triad with an agent like _this_? A _conspiracy_ theorist? Sehun cannot wrap his head around it, just doesn’t understand. A deep, terrible part of him misses Minseok then, misses the dynamic they had. The way they understood each other. The way they were able to anticipate each other’s movements, practically read each other’s thoughts. 

“Are you… I mean, I don’t want to sound rude, but did you pass all your classes?” Sehun asks, and he stares down at Junmyeon's chest, the permablack jumpsuit practically absorbing light. Maybe there was a mistake. Maybe he stole it? “Like, exactly how many missions have you been deployed on?” 

Junmyeon throws his head back with a laugh, and he brushes past Sehun as he moves, the goofy sound of his laugh echoing in the hall. Sehun feels a funny sensation in his stomach, a pull like the one he felt when he first tested, when he first felt Kyungsoo’s energy swirling around his own. Sehun feels a need to follow this unbelievably silly, handsome stranger. 

Kyungsoo would tell Sehun to trust him. Kyungsoo knows better than him, and still… still. 

Sehun watches the small frame of Junmyeon’s body as he moves, watches the sudden stop, watches him look over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow. 

“You coming?” Junmyeon asks. “We better stop fucking around if we’re gonna get deployed soon.” He turns around completely, hand on his waist as he grins at Sehun. “And you wanna get deployed soon, right?” 

Sehun nods eagerly. 

“Then let’s get moving,” Junmyeon says, and he offers Sehun a wink before he spins, walking off with an alluring little tilt in his hips. 

Sehun follows, his mind on Kyungsoo, trying to figure out how it will work between the three of them. The new triad.  
  


♄

They jet up the floors, readers in his bag, staves in hand, and Kyungsoo sends him a message that flickers onto his bracer. _Room 33_ , he writes, and Sehun stretches his legs, quickens his pace so he overtakes Junmyeon, Kyungsoo’s staff in his left hand, his own in his right.

“I get it,” Junmyeon says, “you’re tall.” 

“I didn’t say anything,” Sehun says, and then, over his shoulder, “room 33.” 

“Did he message you?” Junmyeon asks, and he skips forward, staring at Sehun’s wrist before he can guard it. “Oh, nice.” He nudges his shoulder into Sehun’s, still a little too friendly, so Sehun takes a step to the side, puts a bit more distance between them. “I guess there’s still a bit of a learning curve for the three of us, hm?” 

“I suppose,” Sehun says starchily. 

“How long did you say you’d known each other?” Junmyeon asks. 

“We met the first day,” Sehun says, and he thinks back on it, thinks back to when he first saw Kyungsoo. “Our recruitment day.” 

“Oh, really?” And the tone, pleased, happy, makes Sehun look at him. He is overwhelmingly beautiful, too perfect, and Sehun doesn’t like it. “That’s so sweet.” 

Sehun looks forward again. “It wasn’t anything. Serendipity. A happy accident.”

“There aren’t any accidents.” Junmyeon smiles. “Not here.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes on the words, turns down the next hall, passing room 36, 35, 34, and pausing outside of 33. The window inset in the door is open, and Sehun looks in, sees Kyungsoo zoning out, staring at the wall. He does that sometimes now, just stares blankly. He wonders what’s going through his head. Wonders if he’s thinking about Minseok.

Sehun stops Junmyeon, stops before he scans his bracer at the door. 

“Don’t be weird,” Sehun says. “We’ve been through a lot, and we just want… we just want to have something normal, okay? We’ve been doing good so far, right?” He huffs a breath, hand braced on the door. “So… so let’s just be a normal triad, okay?” 

“Normal?” Junmyeon smiles. “What are you talking about? You think you’re ever gonna get anything normal? We’re three of the top agents here. You had a member of your triad die in a mysterious freak accident. We’re trying to find that freak accident again. We’re trying to find it and kill it. And look, on top of all that, you signed a contract for _thirty_ years. You're not even halfway through yet. Do you think it's gonna get _easier_? Do you think you're gonna ever get the rest you deserve?" 

Sehun ignores him, or he tries to, but when they go into the reader room, fingers gliding over the screens as they try to find any hint of what the deployment might hold, Junmyeon’s words stick in his head. Is he ever going to make it out of this? 

Probably not. 

Once upon a time, Sehun thinks that might have made him happy. Once upon a time, it was all he wanted. He is alarmed to find it’s no longer the case. He loses himself in a reader. Doesn’t want to think about it any longer.  
  


♄

The information that they find on the Night Mare is not at all helpful, comes from documents and books that would have disintegrated if not for the Agency preserving them digitally. They scan hundreds of texts over the next several days, and they find information on low-level monstrosities, things easily dispatched with a spell or two, but nothing even comes _close_ to the Night Mare.

Nothing even _touches_ the sheer devastation. The heartache. 

Sehun wonders if it was all just a bad dream, but he shakes that away. The reality is that his friend is dead. You always wake up from bad dreams. 

It’s just that… he’s been an agent for a long time now, over a decade, and he’s shocked that no one’s ever heard of such a thing. That no one’s ever faced something as terrible before. Why him? Why _them_? 

At night, he cannot fall asleep, constantly watching and rewatching the recollection, trying to piece it all together. Why him? Why them? Why there, on that planet, in that system? Why the Night Mare, an impenetrable, lightning-fast storm? 

Nothing makes sense, and he supposes that, paradoxically, _that’s_ the only thing that makes sense. The multiverse is chaos all around them, lovely and fiery and terrible. It’s lucky that he’s made it so far. 

The nights are dense with silence, so thick he can barely hear the sound of his own breath.  
  


♄

Junmyeon stumbles across the face of death itself days later, and at first, he thinks he’s made a mistake.

“Look at this,” Junmyeon says, and he aims the reader up over his shoulder so that Sehun can take a look. “Maybe… there’s, I dunno, it’s just a crude drawing from like, forever ago, but—” 

“N-No,” Sehun says, and the terror runs through him like ice cold blood, “no, that’s… that’s it.” 

He stares into the dead white eyes amidst the swirling clouds, feels the same fear he felt that day, and it only grows, expands, fills up all the empty space until his heart is hammering so violently inside him that he can feel his neck moving with his pulse. He doesn’t know why. He’s seen its face dozens upon dozens of times now, practically every night, but this… this rendering of the monster, a creature of charcoal, dust, magic, cloud, lightning, storm, anger, rage… Sehun looks away, the horror seizing him up. 

“Where’d you find that?” Kyungsoo asks. “H-How did you find it?” 

“Black level text,” Junmyeon smiles. “Perks.” 

“You can say that again,” Sehun breathes. “What’s it say?” 

“Man, this is fucking _crazy_ ,” Junmyeon says, and he double taps on his reader, highlights whatever he deigns necessary, and then swipes up until an h-gram of the text appears on the wall. “ _The Night Mare is an immortal, and hundreds of civilizations have names for this creature of death. The black storm, Equus Noctis, the dusk… all of these refer to the same being, shapeless and shape-shifting, all-powerful and unending._ ” He looks to Kyungsoo. “Sound about right?” 

“Sounds dead-on,” Kyungsoo says. “Keep reading.” 

“ _Not much is known about the Night Mare, as once the beast appears, it is not long before the civilization is destroyed in its entirety. She is rumored to target civilizations on the cusp of enlightened ascension. Few records are kept of the Mare’s appearances, but her destruction has been catastrophic across numerous planets and solar systems. To keep Her contained is to dispose of Her entirely: she knows only death. She knows only supreme and unyielding pain, and nothing but complete and utter annihilation will suppress Her_ ,” Junmyeon recites before turning back to them. “Cheery stuff, boys. Really positive.” 

Sehun’s mind immediately starts working, and he looks at Kyungsoo, watches the same light dawn in his eyes. If the Night Mare destroys all in Her path, then how did they manage to survive? How did they make it back alive?  
  


♄

They keep searching, but there is not much to learn. Amorphous beings are a subsect of their learning, but there was something special about the Night Mare. Sehun doesn’t know if any of their training will yield any positive results.

“There’s no way it’ll work,” he mutters. 

The padded white wall is painted with an h-gram detailing the fearfight protocol. Sehun’s used it before, of course; anyone beyond a Grey 3 has. It’s a specific flourish of the staff and a special word, but it needs the triad to be in sync. Needs all three of them to work, to freeze the shapeshifter in its form for just a moment. A moment should be all they need. But it will never work. 

“Come on,” Junmyeon says. “We gotta at least try it out.” 

“There will be no time,” Sehun says. “I’m telling you.” 

“Well, we have to have a plan of attack. We’re gonna have to do _something_ ,” Junmyeon argues. “Or do you wanna go in there with nothing prepared?” 

“It just seems pointless to me.” He looks at Junmyeon, studies his stance. Junmyeon is free with emotions the way he shouldn’t be. All of their lessons teach them _not_ to be. “She’ll be on us in a millisecond.” 

“And if we know what we’re doing, then we’ll be able to trap her,” Junmyeon says. He looks to Kyungsoo. “Fearfights, right?” 

Kyungsoo nods. 

Sehun sighs. 

“Excellent!” Junmyeon cheers. “Let’s go. In position.” 

Sehun steps into the center, Junmyeon and Kyungsoo flanking him. An h-gram drops from the ceiling, but it is not like the rest. This is an Amorphous, and it blinks out of sight, twitching with light as it reappears across the room, its form shifted into that of a three-headed goat. It blinks out of existence again, appears in front of them as a hound with gnashing jaws. 

“Three,” Sehun counts. “Two.” 

He looks to Kyungsoo. 

“One,” Kyungsoo smiles. 

They hold their staves lowly, swinging them in a wide circle as they say the sacred word, _miedodriae_ , and Sehun closes his eyes as he tries to put his whole spirit into the circle of magic, to hold and bind what he means to hold and bind. It will take everything he has in him, and he focuses, tells himself that he can do this. That this is something he’s done before. Not just that… done _easily_. 

But the h-gram makes a whistling noise, sharp and blistering distraction, and Sehun opens his eyes on instinct, sees the h-gram blink out of existence, funneling back up into the hub. 

“S-Sorry,” Sehun says, and he blinks away some stray tears in his eyes. “Let’s go again.” 

“You want a minute?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“No, come on,” Junmyeon prods. “Let’s go. Come on.” 

And the h-gram drops, shifting in a simulated wave of water. Sehun loses his concentration easily as he watches the blue figure stretch and move.

“Let’s _go_ ,” Junmyeon stresses, and they begin their second attempt together, Sehun feeling the adrenaline rise in him. 

“Come on,” Sehun whispers to himself, and he whirls his staff around him. “Come on.” 

But the binding fails, fails, fails again. 

Furiously, they try to harness the fearfights to add it to their arsenal of skills as a triad, but nothing seems to work. Kyungsoo keeps suggesting that they take a break, but neither Sehun nor Junmyeon are interested in that. They run themselves ragged, and still, it’s for naught. 

“Let’s try again tomorrow, okay?” Kyungsoo says, and he pats Sehun on the shoulder before he goes to the door. “I’m gonna go rest for a while. I suggest you both do the same.” 

He walks from the room, and Sehun watches him go, yearning for the days when they spent every moment together. Every fucking second. He wants to go to him, wants to take him in his arms. Wants to tell him… tell him _something_. Maybe not what he’s feeling, but something that would make him see that he’s trying. That he’s doing his best. 

A hand on his shoulder makes him turn, and he sees Junmyeon fixing his bag on his shoulder with a weak smile. 

“Feeling okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Sehun says stiffly. 

“You don’t look fine.” 

“Thanks.” He says it bitterly, but he can’t help it. He’s in an awful mood. He turns, wants to follow where Kyungsoo leads, but Junmyeon grabs his wrist before he can leave. “ _What_?” 

“Hey,” Junmyeon says, “I’m not trying to be rude here, but… with these kinds of methods, you need to trust me, okay?” He looks down, relinquishes his hold on Sehun’s wrist before nudging his hand against Sehun’s. His voice goes soft. “It’s not going to work unless you give me something to work with.” 

Sehun can’t trust him, can’t trust anyone except for Kyungsoo. 

“I’m trying,” Sehun stresses. “I am.” 

Junmyeon’s face hardens, and Sehun wants to hit him. Wants to be free of this already, but the only real freedom is death. 

“Prove it,” Junmyeon challenges, and he brushes past Sehun, turning at the door to give him a smile. “See you tomorrow.”  
  


♄

He struggles where he normally wouldn’t, and it fucking guts him. He can’t stand not being good at something. Junmyeon always looks at him like he’s expecting more from Sehun, like Junmyeon is some perfect, infallible creature, and Sehun supposes that he is. Kyungsoo falters sometimes, focus bent but never breaking, but Junmyeon manages to shine each and every session. Never takes even a _slight_ misstep.

Sehun can’t stand it. 

Kyungsoo is sitting on Sehun’s bed again, and Sehun stands against the wall, arms folded as he looks down at him. It is a torturous view. _Lie down_ , he thinks. _Lie down, and let’s make something out of nothing._

“You have to stop,” Kyungsoo warns. “You’re being crazy.” 

“I’m not doing anything.” 

“Acting like you’re not putting up weird mental blocks is the reason we’re in this position,” Kyungsoo says. “You need to find calm somewhere.” 

“I’m calm,” Sehun argues. 

Kyungsoo looks at him blankly. 

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Sehun says. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I can’t just—,” _change the way I feel_ , he thinks. 

“You can,” Kyungsoo tells him. “You _have_ to. You know what’s on the line.” 

His station. His livelihood. His life. Kyungsoo’s. 

“Okay,” Sehun says. “All right.”  
  


♄

They go for an interexperience, and it changes everything.

The nodes are attached to their temples, whirring machines all around them. The table Sehun’s resting on is covered with white padding, the same material as the training rooms, and he sinks into it just a touch. Everything is clean and empty. Pristine. Smells vaguely like antiseptic. 

He hears the humming of the machines to his left and right, wants to speak to Kyungsoo just to hear his voice, but he can’t. He needs the quiet. Needs to detach. Needs the recollections crystal clear. 

The voice in his head is not his own, is pleasantly androgynous, neither high-pitched nor low, calm and precise in its pronunciation. 

“Your interexperience will commence in five, four, three, two, one—” 

And his eyes shut, magnetic. From then on, he is inside. He doesn’t know who he’s inside then, but he knows he is there. Inside their dreams, their chosen recollection.  
  


♄

All he sees is the dry earth and barren landscape of a planet he doesn’t know. There is devastation. Nothing is left.

All he can taste is blood and metal. He reaches up to his mouth, feels the empty holes along his gums where his teeth should be. The pain is real, tingling and electric, and his entire body simmers with it. He does not have time to dwell on it. He looks up, and he sees… he sees the hammered arms of an ironwyrm. 

He turns, runs as fast as his legs can carry him, but the ironwyrm is faster, can breathe hot liquid fire and fly. Sehun turns and looks up into the sky as the demon dips him headfirst into shadow by the ankles. He sees the throat open, blue and white, and he dives to the side, nothing to hide behind, nowhere to go. The flame burns around him, and from nowhere, a beam of black absorbs him, pushes out of him like a wave.

He watches in wonder as it provides defense against the ironwyrm’s flames. It lands, the ground shaking under his feet. Its talons are massive, the scales silvery and black, and the eyes are slits of bleeding red. The monster rears back, roars with a fury that puts tears of fear in his eyes. 

Without any more hesitation, the wyrm unleashes another guttural cry, this time accompanied by flames hotter than a star. He can feel himself sweating, even within the black shell. 

He crouches to the dusty earth, hands covering the back of his neck as though at any moment the dripping blue flame might sear through the shimmering black bubble around him. He cries, lets himself cry, and with it, the protected space grows, the bubble growing in strength and size. He furiously wipes at his face as the ironwyrm thrashes, its jaws trying to close around him. 

But the magic… it won’t let him die. 

The ironwyrm slowly tires, the flames going warm with red, and it screeches to the sky, an unholy sound that sends a shiver down his back. Then, the beast takes flight, flapping its wings as the shield around him lowers, little more than a sparkle of silver overhead. 

He looks around him. Ash and blood. Smoking, sulfurous ruin. People are already burying what little is left of their dead, marking graves with stones that were carved with their names on the day they were born. He cannot stay here any longer, he realizes. There won’t be anyone to lay a stone upon his grave. 

He helps as best he can. Filters water for children, bathes them and tries to heal their blistering wounds. He holds them as they cry. 

He is in the middle of wrapping a cloth around a deep, severe burn when a shot of light like a falling star lands before him, a ship that is too technologically advanced to look like it came from the same universe. It is slick metal; silverstar, maybe, or something even richer. When the man steps out, boots in the dirt, he feels a sense of shame. _You don’t belong here. Don’t look. Don’t see what we’ve become._

The man is dressed in all navy, clean and pressed, and there is a crest on his chest: A silver shield. Thin black triangles intersecting. _Don’t look_ , he thinks. _Don’t see me._

He wonders where the man came from. Wonders what other dreams he might offer. 

He finishes tying the bandage, and he stands as the man walks over to him, magnets drawn to each other. 

“Come with me,” the man says, and he offers his hand. 

His parents are dead. There is nothing for him here, he realizes. 

“Who are you?” Sehun feels himself ask. 

“A friend,” the man says. “Come. Let’s get you shelter.”  
  


♄

Sehun’s eyes open, his real eyes, and the nodes detach.

“The next interexperience will commence in fifteen minutes,” the voice says, and Sehun pulls himself up as he realizes what he just saw. 

Junmyeon’s beginning. 

“Shit,” Sehun breathes. “ _Holy shit_.” 

It takes him a moment to come down from the intense full-body tingling, settling back into himself, his consciousness finding its way back to him. He lived inside Junmyeon for a moment, saw the desolation and smoke, saw the monster. He was young. He tried so hard. Sehun wants to… wants to apologize. 

He guesses that’s what interexperience is about. Living through their most traumatic moments as if you were the person living them. He thinks about what Junmyeon must have gone through in order to end up here, a Black suit. Wonders how dangerous he really is. If nothing else, the way he thinks is dangerous. Not like Kyungsoo. Not safe like him. 

Sehun shuts his eyes to rest as he relaxes, but the time passes quickly, and before too long, the pleasant voice is chiming that his second experience is about to begin in five, four, three, two, one.  
  


♄

Sehun shivers as he steps into Kyungsoo, seeing exactly what he expected. What he thought he could stomach. _Detach_ , his own voice says. _You’re not there. It’s over and done. It can’t hurt you anymore. He can’t die twice._

He tastes ash, ash and death, and the thought that rings through Kyungsoo’s head, filtering through Sehun, is that they made a mistake. A mistake that can never be erased. 

They are meant to relive the razor sharp moments before Minseok’s death. Sehun looks over at himself, at his _own_ face as the horror dawns on them both, as it rings through time and space and grabs him by the fucking throat, nails in his neck. Blood in his eyes. There was blood spilling from the high corners of Minseok’s eyes. _Oh no_ , Kyungsoo thought. _Oh no, oh God. What have we done?_

Sehun rips the nodes from his skin, immediately detaches. 

He feels tears at his eyes, and he wipes them away. Silly, he checks his hand to make sure there’s no blood on him. There isn’t. He’s fine. He’s okay. Everything is okay.

Sehun stands, gets up. Crosses the room. Presses his thumb against the reader until the door slips open. He goes to the other two rooms, their names on the digital readout, and he knocks on Kyungsoo’s door, something pedestrian and satisfying about it. 

“I can’t,” he mutters. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” 

It is only a moment before Kyungsoo appears at the sliding door, eyes wide with concern. He frowns, pulls Sehun by the back of his neck into a hug. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, and Sehun melts into the touch. “I’m sorry. I knew it was a bad idea, and I still—” 

“No,” Sehun says, and the tears just barely stay on his lashes. “No, it’s my fault. I’m weak. I’m not strong enough.” 

“You are,” Kyungsoo says softly. “You’ve always been much stronger than you thought.” 

“No.” It sounds like a confession, like a dirty secret he’s been hiding all along. “No, I’m not.” 

Kyungsoo holds him by the shoulders, hands warm even through the suits they wear, and Sehun longs to feel them on his bare skin. It’s been so long. 

“Yes, you are.” He smiles at Sehun, a rarity, and Sehun takes it greedily as the tears fall down his face. Kyungsoo reaches up, brushes them away. “It’s all right. Take all the time you need.” 

The kindness should be unnecessary, but Sehun needs it anyway. He folds himself down, Kyungsoo wrapped in his arms, and he huffs out a breath as they hold each other, as Sehun thinks about saying something stupid. _I love you. Need you. Want you._ He buries the words down inside him, shoves them down to the balls of his feet, goes up on his toes to make himself bigger, and Kyungsoo starts to laugh. 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo whispers. “Feeling better?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Kyungsoo says, and he brushes his thumb against Sehun’s cheek, and it feels like Sehun’s stumbled onto something he shouldn’t have, something priceless. “You’re allowed to have feelings. You’re _supposed_ to. It’s just… it’s about filtering them. Rationalizing them, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun breathes. “I know. I remember.” 

“Good,” Kyungsoo says, and then he stands on his tip toes, knocks his forehead against Sehun’s. “Don’t forget, all right?” 

“I won’t.” 

Sehun turns at the sound of the other door sliding open, sees Junmyeon standing there with folded arms. 

“You guys okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Sorry, it was my fault, I just…” 

“Hey,” Junmyeon says, a streak of exhaustion in his voice, “no big deal. If we wanna do it some other time, we can.” He shrugs. “If not, it’s fine.” 

“Okay.” He turns back to Kyungsoo. “We should—” 

“Rest,” Kyungsoo agrees. “That was a lot for the morning.” 

“Reconvene at the quad for a little spar outside?” Junmyeon suggests, and he taps his bracer. “Say… fourteen hundred hours?” 

Kyungsoo looks at him as if asking for permission, and Sehun nods, granting it. 

“Great,” Junmyeon says, and he nods with a smile before going soft. “Thanks, uh, thanks for watching.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, not even a second to think about it. “Thanks for showing us.” 

He turns off with a sad smile, and Sehun and Kyungsoo watch him go. 

“He’s funny,” Kyungsoo says. “Something about him, just…” 

“Different,” Sehun finishes. “Definitely.”  
  


♄

They study in the reader room, Room 33, and Sehun sits in his chair, looking over the Crystym notes Junmyeon wrote for him. Kyungsoo is working on the wall, an adjustment to his staff, some mechpanel that Sehun’s never seen before. Sehun watches him work, sees how the lines of his back move and shift, and even under the stiff fabric of the jumpsuit, it is alluring. Kyungsoo is so… dependable, so responsible, and Sehun thinks that if he weren’t around, he wouldn’t have made it through.

He ignores the way his thoughts trail off, focuses up. His distraction is immediate, the slick tapping sound from the other side of the room. 

In the corner, his back to Sehun, Junmyeon is doodling. Sehun looks over every once in a while, tries to get a look at what he’s doing, but he’s very deliberately hiding his work. Sehun narrows his eyes. 

“This makes no sense,” Sehun mutters. “What kind of help is this supposed to be? _Withdraw and enter_? Those two ideas are literal polar opposites. They are antonyms.” 

“It’s a difficult concept to grasp,” Junmyeon says, “so don’t feel bad if you don’t get it.” 

“I’ll _get it_ ,” Sehun sneers, “so don’t condescend to me.” 

Junmyeon laughs sharply, and Sehun feels a little smile creep up onto his face. 

He looks back over his shoulder, aims a pretty smile at Sehun. “You sure you don’t want some hands-on teaching?” He winks before turning back to his work, and Sehun is left flustered in a way that he hasn’t been before. 

“W-What are you— _shut up_ , okay?” Sehun says. “I can do it on my own. I got it.” 

“Yes, you do,” Junmyeon says. “Just gotta prove it to yourself.” 

Sehun hides another smile behind his reader, eyes glazing over the poor handwriting. He looks up just in time to see Kyungsoo smiling at him.  
  


♄

H-gram bodies fall from the ceiling, and Sehun is standing there with wide eyes and a bolt of fear stuck through his heart.

“Go on,” Junmyeon chides. “Show us.” 

“It’s not ready,” Sehun says, turning. “I changed my mind.” 

“Do something easy,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s a hard spell. Don’t feel bad.” 

“Don’t listen to him,” Junmyeon says with a charming smile. “You’re being a coward.” 

It starts a fire inside him, the flame of it blue and excruciating, and Sehun only wants to rise to the challenge. He squares his shoulders as he looks into Junmyeon’s eyes. 

“I’m _not_ being a coward,” Sehun says. “I just don’t want to kill us all.” 

Junmyeon laughs sharply, and Sehun wants to throttle him. 

“As if you could!” Junmyeon says. “Go on. Give it a go.” 

Sehun grinds his teeth as he turns back to the h-grams, a red wall around him, and he starts to focus, a withdrawal and an entrance, and he visualizes what he wants to see as he aims the sharp arrowhead of his staff at the ground. With a silent word, the crystals begin to grow from the floor. The magic sizzles through him, electric and cold and white, and he watches in awe as the crystals move with a mind of their own, scaling the padded walls with crackling sounds. 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says, and it breaks his focus, Sehun looking back over his shoulder as the crystals shatter through the red bodies. “Part two. Save us.” 

Sehun bites his lip as he turns back, channels the ceasing spell, tries to remember all the tips that Junmyeon gave him. He squeezes the staff too tight, and the charm spits more crystals out, the growth moving with a ferocity that makes him drop his staff, clattering to the mineral that leeches forward. 

“Sehun!” Kyungsoo calls, and he looks at him, sees the terror in his eyes. 

Sehun’s hands shake as he tries to scramble for the staff, but the crystal is hungry. He watches in horror as his staff is consumed by the crystal, devoured. He turns to Junmyeon, desperate, his air caught in his lungs, the fear jumping into his mouth, holding him silent. 

Junmyeon smiles as he steps forward, waves his staff easily, and everything, everything disappears. Falls in that same glittering storm of dust, fading into nothingness to reveal his staff, unharmed. 

“Thank you,” Sehun breathes. He looks to his feet, feels completely ashamed. “I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for,” Junmyeon smiles, and then, turning to the bodies that soon begin to pile up in the center of the room. “Wanna try again?” 

Sehun can feel the crystals spreading across his skin, and he imagines them spiking through his fingernails, spearing through his eyes and his gut. Through Kyungsoo’s heart. Through Junmyeon’s. 

He shivers. 

“I think I’ll stick to… well, to literally anything besides that,” Sehun says, and it earns him a delighted laugh from Junmyeon. 

“One day,” Junmyeon says, and he whips his staff around him with a flourish, and before Sehun knows it, he hears a soft _thump_ behind him, the red of the h-gram behind him dropping to the floor. “All right, let’s focus up. Go again.” 

Sehun unleashes a storm, and when he hears Junmyeon holler out his praise, he knows they’ve found something good.  
  


♄

Kyungsoo visits him in the morning sometimes so that they can walk to First together. Sehun is busy grabbing a reader, stuffing it into his pack so that he doesn’t have to come back to the cabins afterwards, and Kyungsoo sits on his bed waiting for him. It’s a visual that he has processed hundreds, even thousands of times, but it never gets old. Sehun never gets tired of seeing it.

“Almost ready?” Kyungsoo asks. 

Sehun steps into his boots, sits on the bed next to Kyungsoo as he nods. He begins to lace them up, and he feels Kyungsoo watching him. It’s a happy feeling, one that reminds him of his youth. The way they watched each other. Sehun finishes with his ties, sits up, offers Kyungsoo a smile. 

“You and him,” Kyungsoo says, and he rests his hand against Sehun’s. “You seem to be getting along quite well. Ever since the interexperience.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, careful. “Yes, we’ve been… bonding, I guess.” 

“That’s a good word for it,” Kyungsoo says, a pretty, closed-mouth smile on his face. “ _Bonding_.” 

Sehun’s stomach aches as Kyungsoo looks at him like that. 

“Shut up,” Sehun says, and he looks away. “He’s okay.” 

“Just okay?” 

Sehun looks at Kyungsoo, wants to say something. _What do you want me to say? Do you want me to love him the way I love you? Or do you want me to stop where I am?_

“Just okay,” Sehun says. “Don’t tell him, but…”

“But what?” 

“But I like you more,” Sehun says, and he bumps his shoulder against Kyungsoo’s. 

Kyungsoo’s eyes are warm, and Sehun could stay like this all day. Wishes, distantly, that they could. Maybe he doesn’t deserve it, though. 

“Good,” Kyungsoo says. “I like you more, too.”

For a moment, he feels like it’s possible, the ever after.  
  


♄

They keep preparing for something Sehun doesn’t think they can actually prepare for.

“I think we’re ready,” Kyungsoo says. “I think we’re as ready as we’re ever going to be.” He looks to Junmyeon. “What do you think?” 

“Agreed,” he says, legs kicked up over his chair in the reader room. He looks comfortable in a way that Sehun could never feel. “Sehun, what do you think?” 

“Y-Yeah,” he says. “I think so.” 

Kyungsoo stands from his seat. Smiles at the both of them. 

“I’m gonna go file.” 

Sehun immediately sits up straight in his chair. 

“Now?” He struggles for an excuse. “B-But what about—” 

“You said you think we’re ready,” Kyungsoo says. “Why not now?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. “It’s so…”

“Dangerous?” Junmyeon smiles. 

“Shut up,” Sehun says. “What if—” 

“Nothing bad is going to happen,” Kyungsoo assures him. He walks to Sehun, rests a hand on his shoulder. “But if you don’t want me to go, I won’t.” 

Sehun bites his lip, the corners of his mouth pointed down. 

“Come on,” Junmyeon goads. “We’ve been cooped up in this room forever, and we’re not getting any younger.” 

“ _Fine_ ,” Sehun says. “Go.” 

Kyungsoo gives him a pleasant smile before he walks from the room, leaving the two of them there as Sehun lets himself think. It could be as late as next year. It could be as early as next week. He doesn’t know if he’s ready. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be ready. 

“What are you thinking so loud about?” 

“I’m not,” Sehun says. 

“Come on,” Junmyeon says, eyes still stuck to his reader. “Out with it now.” 

Sehun puts his own reader to the side. 

“D-Do you think we’re gonna survive?” Sehun asks. “Is this suicide?” 

There is a thick silence, and Sehun stares at him, tries to read him as he reads. The quiet stretches, on and on and on, and Sehun wants to hit him, wants to smack him. _Stop being so good to me. Stop knowing everything. Stop making me feel like I have an afterwards._

“I dunno,” Junmyeon says, and he scans over his reader, eyes stuck to the screen. “Do you _want_ it to be suicide?” 

_No,_ Sehun realizes. _No. I want to make it out alive. I want to live._

“No,” Sehun admits. “No, I think I want… I think Minseok would want more for me. He made me promise… back when we first met.”

“Promise what?” 

“That I wouldn’t give up,” Sehun says. 

“Nice guy.” Junmyeon looks over his shoulder, smiles back at Sehun. “You’re making him proud. Remember that.” Junmyeon looks back at his reader, and the words of comfort drape over Sehun. “Win, lose, or draw, you’ve already stepped forward. You’ve already fulfilled your promise.” 

“Yeah.” He sighs it out. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

Junmyeon looks back again, cocky as he stares at Sehun. 

“I’m always right,” Junmyeon says, grinning as he hooks his chin over his shoulder. “Better get used to that.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes. He goes back to his own reader, a selection of spells and hexes personally picked by Junmyeon. He decides to commit more of them to memory instead of wasting more of his precious time. Occasionally, he feels his eyes drawn to the skin at the back of Junmyeon’s neck, but he ignores the impulse to continue to stare, focusing on the magic instead.  
  


♄

Sehun wakes the next morning with the dawning of the halogens, and as he rubs his eyes, he realizes his bracer is flashing green.

His stomach clenches as he realizes what it means. Greens are reserved for communications from the Agency itself. Messages from the Board of Directors. Greens became fewer and farther between when he graduated from his learning, and now, he hasn’t gotten any in months. Not since his retest. Now, his bracer flashes green. Green. Green. 

The agents in his cabin are rustling around, the day going on without him, and he lays in his bed, watching the green blink at him. 

It is only after his eyes go fuzzy and dim that he swipes the green light away to reveal the message, one that suddenly fills him with an inexplicable, yet overwhelming sense of dread.

**DEPLOYMENT NOTICE TODAY, 03 11 2527. 0800 HOURS. PLEASE REPORT TO HANGAR L10 AT THE SPECIFIED DATE AND TIME TO ENSURE EFFICIENT DEPARTURE. MORE INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR UPCOMING DEPLOYMENT CAN BE FOUND WITHIN THE _ACTIVE DEPLOYMENT_ MENU OF YOUR STANDARD-ISSUE BRACER. THE AGENCY EXTENDS ITS MOST SINCERE THANKS FOR YOUR CONTINUED SERVICE. GOOD LUCK.**


	2. Chapter 2

He is shaking. He barely remembers this kind of adrenaline, thrumming through his body like electricity. 

He’s trying to remember all of the things he has to remember. All the hundreds of things. Staves are already secured. He’s got his mask. He’s got his medkits. He’s remembering the fearfights. He’s remembering. Trying to remember. 

He looks around at the corrugated metal walls. He is boxed in. He might be dead already. 

The boom of the jet is deafening, has deafened hundreds or maybe even thousands of agents who didn’t have their silencers firmly attached to their ears. They can repair ear drums, of course, but it’s a tedious, messy business, and it’s best to avoid it altogether.

Sehun affixes his silencers as he stands in the hangar, and he knocks his fist against one of the muffs. Nothing. He can’t even hear himself breathe. _Good_ , he thinks. _Good._

He looks at the ship, sees his reflection in the sleek black siding. He sweeps his hand along it, a bullet through deep space. A bullet is shot, and you never intend for it to return. 

He looks up to the clock on the wall, and as the seconds tick down, he realizes that it is now, what he was waiting for. He keeps Minseok in his head. He wanted Sehun to fight. He wanted Sehun to win. 

He stands there as he waits for the countdown to hit fifty-nine seconds, and once it does, the domed top of the ship pulls back, the hydraulics of it hissing out. The speaker starts in his inner ear. He stares at the clock, the lonely red numbers as the voice tells him _Fifty-six. Fifty-five. Fifty-four._

Sehun steps down into the cockpit, his knees practically coming up to his chest as he nestles down into it. He tries to breathe as the system counts down, as the ticking of the clock in his inner-ear continues. He looks up as the dome fixes itself back over his head, and hurriedly he taps at his bracer. 

“Hey,” he says, “hey, can you hear me?” 

“Clear,” Kyungsoo says. “Can you hear me?” 

“Clear,” Sehun answers. “Hey, I’m… I’m kinda freaking out here.” 

“You’re good,” Kyungsoo whispers. “You’re fine.” 

“I dunno,” Sehun says, and he feels the tremor in his voice. “I dunno.” 

“Hey.” And Sehun recognizes the voice to be Junmyeon’s. “You guys hear me?” 

“Clear,” Kyungsoo answers. 

“Clear,” Sehun says. 

“Nice,” Junmyeon says. “What’s up? How are you guys feeling?” 

“Sehun’s losing it,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun wishes he could shut him up. 

“Why? Sehun, what’re you losing? Talk to me.” 

“I’m fine,” Sehun says. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“If it’s gonna affect us later,” Junmyeon says, “you better get it out now.” 

“It’s not,” Sehun says. “I’m good.” 

“Are you sure?” There is a challenge in his voice, and Sehun would glare at him if he could. “Come on. Let’s go. Tell me you’re good.” 

“I’m _good_ ,” Sehun says. “I’m fucking good.” 

“Again.” 

“I’m good.” 

“Promise me,” Junmyeon says. “Come on. Promise.” 

Sehun’s heart is in his mouth, but there is something delicious about it, the fear and the chemicals. He wants to be next to the two of them. Wants to be able to hold them close to him, so that they can feel how fast his pulse is, hammering in his veins. 

“I promise,” Sehun says. 

“Good,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun can hear the smile on his face. “We got this.” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo agrees, and his voice shocks Sehun momentarily. 

Then, suddenly, the countdown hits zero, and there is a sucking sound that they can all hear, even through the silencers. The ship seals, airtight. The gravity of the situation hits him then, with what precious little air he has left in his lungs. He looks around at the mirrored surface of the dome overhead, sees his reflection. He brushes his fingers against it, the smooth metal. 

“Okay, let’s sync the bracers,” Junmyeon says. 

Sehun looks down, the corner of the digital display flashing red. He presses the appropriate options, swipes to the briefing screen as Kyungsoo reads. 

“Agency tracked movement from Sovilia because of sudden large explosions as the thing traveled. Last reported on Cara 833,” Kyungsoo says, “Class Six. We’ll be there in ten minutes. We’ve got coords locked for a landing site, should be clear of any buildings. There’s a lot of open space.” He makes a noise of satisfaction. “About as good a place as any. Looks deserted.” 

Pictures flash onto the bracer, and Sehun can see what he means. There is not much left there. Abandoned buildings. Scraps that have been picked clean. The carrion of cities. 

“N-No way,” Junmyeon says, quiet, soft. 

“What?”

“That… that can’t be right,” Junmyeon asks. “T-That was in my old system. Andromeda.” 

“Did you ever go there?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“Sometimes,” Junmyeon says, and he sounds uncharacteristically fragile, as though he could be shattered like a sheet of glass. “A couple times. It was nice. It… it wasn’t a Class Six back then.” 

“Four?” Sehun asks. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “It was really… it was _lively_. Towns and cities. Markets. Tons of inhabitants. There was a government there then. I guess… I guess I haven’t thought about it in a long time.” 

“Guess it’s time for a trip down memory lane,” Kyungsoo says. “Everybody synced?” 

“Good,” Sehun answers. 

“Good,” Junmyeon says. It is shocking, how different he sounds now. Sehun wants to ask him the same questions he asked Sehun. _Are you good? Do you promise?_

There is a chiming sound overhead, a green light. Synced. And Sehun watches the monitor on the dash as their course is charted. They are tilted back, and Sehun sits forward. 

There is the deafening booming of a jet, Sehun knows there is, but for the life of him, he can’t hear it. All he feels is the gentle movement of the ship through space. All he hears is Kyungsoo’s voice, soft and smooth just as he remembers. 

“All right, boys,” Kyungsoo says. “Close your eyes and relax. We’ll be there momentarily.” 

Sehun tries to obey him, but his eyes stay open the whole way, the great unknown flying by him, bright and terrible, the possibilities so black and white.  
  


♄

The landings are soft, but Sehun’s stomach still goes tight as the computer informs him of their descent. He looks to the bracer, and he taps, flips through the cameras as he tries to get a good look at their surroundings, at the planet they’ve arrived on. The fans blow dust into the lenses, and he can only get a few glimpses. White. Grey. Red.

“Make sure your gloves and mask are on,” Junmyeon advises. “Class Six.” 

He pulls on his gloves, and they feel tight against his skin. He remembers this feeling from forever ago. Remembers loving the way they made him feel confined. Like support. 

Sehun taps his bracer again, selects _Mask_ , and slides the bar from _Down_ to _Up_. The collar of his jumpsuit lights blue, and the atmosphere builds around him, hazy and light. It tastes just like Nirth, just like artioz. Pungent. Smells like sour and sweet. 

“Ready?” Kyungsoo asks. “Get your staves.” 

Sehun presses the button on the panel, and the compartment at his side shoots open. He disengages from the machine, lets the dome unfurl overhead. He looks up to a smoky grey sky, streaked with blood red. It is beautiful in a terrifying sort of way. He grips his staff in his hand as he pulls himself up out of the cockpit. 

It is quiet as he takes his first steps on the ashen soil. Eerily quiet. 

He looks, sees the other two ships next to his own, sees them disengaging just as he had moments ago. He stands, waits for them, immediately scans for life. The bracer ping, ping, pings as red light shoots out over the distance. He patiently waits for the answer he knows is coming. Amorphous creatures don’t register on the life scan. There’s no matter. What would register? 

“No life detected,” the scan reports, and he turns back, sees Kyungsoo and Junmyeon grabbing staves out of their cockpits. 

He turns back around, looks out over nothingness. 

It takes a moment for his legs to adjust to the individual gravity of the planet, feels too heavy on his legs, so he taps his bracer, accounts for the slight difference in pull, and immediately feels a little more comfortable as the gravity goes back to what feels like normal. 

He bends his knees. Tests it out. 

“Good?” Kyungsoo asks, approaching at his side. “I set for 10.” 

“I went for 9,” Sehun says. 

“You always liked to be a little lighter on your feet.” 

Sehun smiles at him, and Kyungsoo pushes his shoulder into Sehun’s. It doesn’t feel like they are deployed. It feels like forever ago. It feels like they’ve gone back to where they came from.

The dirt looks heathered as the dirty white snow covers ash grey soil. Sehun looks around. There is desolation. He never gets used to the sight of this. He sees ghosts at every corner. Metal and glass and loss. 

“Do you think there were gravitational shifts? Low to high?” 

Junmyeon approaches, footsteps loud through the snow, and he stares at the carnage of buildings falling like collapsing stars. 

“That would certainly account for all the… ruin,” Kyungsoo says. 

“None of this makes any sense,” Junmyeon says. “I mean, I’m pretty confident in my knowledge of this atmosphere class, and… something’s different, right? Did we get lost?”

Kyungsoo starts tapping at his bracer, frowning at it. 

“We’re at the exact coordinates,” he says. 

“This isn’t a Class Six,” Junmyeon says. He crushes his foot into some nearby snow. “This is Five. Maybe even a Four.” 

“How do you figure?” Kyungsoo asks. 

Junmyeon nods quietly down to their feet, and when they look, he has parted the snow, scuffed his boot through the dirt to reveal red soil, dry and red-brown like old blood, and there is a clover of green splitting through all the scarlet and charcoal. 

“H-How is that possible?” Kyungsoo wonders. He crouches down, his gloved hands protected as he brushes the snow away, stares at the verdancy in wonder. “I’ve never seen anything grow in such a harsh climate. This soil shouldn’t be able to… shouldn’t be able to support a growth like this.” 

“Swamping. Someone’s gotta be fucking with the environment,” Junmyeon whispers. “Something’s going on here.” 

He looks up at Junmyeon.

“Gene pollution is illegal,” Kyungsoo says. 

“People do it anyway,” Junmyeon says. “Doesn’t matter if it’s illegal or not.” 

“Was the soil always red?” Sehun asks. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “When I was a kid, there were… forests. Pretty forests. Big trees.” He loses himself in a memory, it seems, because his face splits into a smile. “It was nice back then.” Sehun stares at him, weirdly endeared by his brand of charm, but the smile fades, like he was somewhere else. “We should check the environment. See what’s actually going on here.” 

“Run it,” Kyungsoo says, and immediately, Sehun gets his hand at his waist, pulling out his tester. 

He sticks the tester into the air, watching the little digital screen run through its calculations. The levels of nitrogen, argon, carbon, and oxygen are displayed, their percentages spit out onto their bracers. 

“This is… this is a Class Four. These compositions are… I mean, we could go maskless, for fuck’s sake,” Junmyeon says, and he stares at the sky, the lightly falling snow. “What is going on here? Why does it… why does it _look_ like this? What the fuck happened?” 

“Masks should stay on. Just in case,” Kyungsoo says, and as he steps forward, the ground crunching under his feet, “Where the fuck is it? It’s massive… and still.”

_And still,_ Sehun thinks, staring at the ashy sky. He searches for even a hint of the beast, the terrible creature. He remembers the way it was on them. It could smell them. It should be here by now. They shouldn’t have had enough time for all this, for scans and for awe. They should be dead already. And still… 

“Should we go looking for it?” Junmyeon asks, searching the sky. “This is giving me the fuckin’ willies.” 

“Willies?” Sehun says. 

“The heebie jeebies,” Junmyeon says. Sehun looks him up and down, eyes glazing over the black jumpsuit that he wears. “Oh, don’t look at me like that.” 

“I don’t know if that’s the best course of action, moving away from the ships,” Kyungsoo says. “Shouldn’t we let it come to us?” 

The two of them look at Sehun, and Sehun looks between the two of them. 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. 

“Triad divided,” Junmyeon shrugs. “Pick.” 

Kyungsoo watches him with eyes that have seen him grow from boy to man. And Sehun can’t ignore the heat in him, the protectiveness, the _I know what’s best for you_ in his stare. 

“Let’s stay here,” Sehun says, and he stares directly into Kyungsoo’s eyes, hopes to tell him _I’d follow you anywhere_ just with a look. 

“You guys are so timid, like what the hell,” Junmyeon grouses, and he spins his staff around him in a circle before tucking it up under his arm. “Whatever. I’ll get you two out of your shells soon. Especially you.” He jabs a finger towards Kyungsoo. “You’re so… you’re too _good_.” 

Kyungsoo smiles at Junmyeon, and Junmyeon returns it, and there is a strange chemistry between the two of them, something that leaves Sehun feeling vaguely envious, like he is on the outside looking in. Lesser qualms have fractured triads into shards, Sehun knows, but he swallows over the jealousy. There are bigger things to be concerned with, especially now. He’ll have… well, _if all goes well_ , he’ll have the rest of his days to focus on how to tell Kyungsoo how he feels. 

“All right,” Junmyeon says, and he leans back against the metal of his ship, cocky. “Well, if we’re just gonna sit here all day and wait for death to grip us in her icy hand, then one of you is in charge of keeping me entertained.” He looks at Kyungsoo, then at Sehun. “Any takers?” 

“How about we just be quiet?” Sehun says. “And we try and focus.” 

Junmyeon closes his eyes with a frown. 

“Wake me up when the atrocity of one thousand hellscapes approaches.” 

Sehun looks at Kyungsoo, watches him roll his eyes with a wide smile. He can’t remember the last time he made Kyungsoo look so happy.  
  


♄

They sit there all day long and after several hours, standing guard loses its appeal.

“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” Sehun mutters, the cold of the evening starting to settle in over them. He rubs his arms as he hugs himself. “Maybe we should have gone looking.” 

“It was your brilliant deciding vote who kept us here,” Junmyeon says, arms folded across his chest, “so you only have yourself to blame.” 

Sehun frowns, scuffs the toe of his boot against the snow, mired with the dry soil underneath. It looks like blood when it hits the snow. 

He looks around, wondering what else could be done if not simply to pass the time. They’ve all taken recollections of the arrival already. They’ve scoped their surroundings. Discussed the plan again. What else is there to do? What else is there but the fight? 

“Maybe you were right,” Sehun offers. “Maybe they got the wrong information.” 

Junmyeon scoffs. 

“Have you ever known the Agency to have faulty information?” he asks. “Unlikely. We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.” 

“What do you mean?” Sehun asks, furrowing his brow. “You were the one who said a—please tell me this isn’t another one of those conspiracy theories.” 

Junmyeon shrugs his shoulders with a handsome smile, and Sehun scoffs. 

“Don’t talk to me,” Sehun says. “I’ve got to focus.” 

“Please, focus on the great expanse of nothingness before you.” He waves his arms. “Look upon it and _tremble_.” 

Kyungsoo lets out a goofy laugh, and it draws Sehun’s eye, a flutter to a flame. He has never seen someone look so beautiful, so enrapturing. Kyungsoo is everything Sehun’s always wanted to be and somehow more. He’s everything Sehun wants to hold close. 

Another bead of jealousy runs through Sehun at the way Kyungsoo playfully shoves Junmyeon, at the way they share little gazes. Not for the first time, Sehun wonders… just what was their compatibility score? And should he be nervous? 

At once, the planet, the atmosphere, the air goes colder, greyer, and Sehun turns, feels the same chill run up his spine the day it all burned away. He turns, sees the realization on Kyungsoo’s face, sees the fear dawn just like it did once before. 

_No_ , he thinks. _Not this time. This time, we win._

“All right,” Junmyeon says. “Let’s go, boys. It’s showtime.” 

Sehun grabs his staff from off his back, whips it around as the dust storm forms around them, clouds start to crackle with light and heat. His stomach is full of poison, boiling and red, and he swallows the spit in his mouth, tastes the ash and soot that slip down his throat. 

Already, they have had more time than the first, and Sehun wonders why the Night Mare doesn’t strike, doesn’t charge like the last time. They could be dead already. _Shouldn’t_ they be dead already? 

Instead, the Mare takes shape, gargantuan above them, swirling in the stormy sky, streaked with bloody red dust. Suddenly, the creature is looming, approaching, a horrible, shrieking sound erupting from it, ears pinned back to its bony skull. It is fearsome, loathsome, and he wishes with all his heart he could destroy it. Send it back to hell, or wherever all the bad things go. 

Just then, Sehun tracks movement, the tail of the great beast whipping through the air. It is braided, roped, pulsing and red. And for a second, it… it almost looks like it’s made of muscle. _Human_ muscle. 

It is ghastly, terrifying, and Sehun’s stomach plummets. What does this mean? What could it mean? Was it this bad before? Was it all over so fast that he couldn’t truly comprehend the sheer magnitude, the horror? Could it have gotten worse? Could such a thing be possible? 

“ _Go_ ,” Kyungsoo shouts, and then, it begins. 

They say the word in unison, the spell for the fearfights. They say it hard and fast, eager and hungry for victory. _Miedodriae_. It hits him in the stomach like a punch. With the word, he waves his staff in a wide circle, the dim light of deep space glinting off the silverstar arrowed tip as it moves. He puts his heart into it. Puts his fucking soul in it. _If this doesn’t work_ , he tells himself, _they’re dead. If this doesn’t work, Kyungsoo is dead. And Junmyeon, too. Not again. Not another. Not while I’m around._ He holds his eyes open, stares into the beaded red eyes of the Night Mare as it stomps, sending shivers through the ground where they stand. But they practiced this. 

He can do this. He can. 

He shuts his eyes, lets the magic work. Sparkle and fizzle and shudder out in a wave. 

The magic builds in yellow and silver gold, a ball of light amidst darkness. It stretches itself thin, cords of blinding light, and Sehun lets himself believe. Just for a second, he lets himself believe. 

Within the blink of a fucking eye, the spell fractures and splinters, the cords unbound. 

“Shit,” Junmyeon curses, and when Sehun looks at him, he looks… scared. “Again. Come on. Again.” 

As the Night Mare rears, they prepare for another round of the fearfights, but the Night Mare is too quick. Too fast. It stomps onto the ground, the world rippling underfoot, and the only reason they don’t land squarely on their asses, bruised and bloody, is because Junmyeon is there. Just as quick. Just as fast. 

He moves with lightning speed, stepping out in front of Sehun and Kyungsoo. Right as the quake is about to send them all off balance, Junmyeon plunges his staff to the ground, the work, the raw energy absorbed by his staff. He trembles as it courses through him, and for a moment, Sehun is overwhelmed, unsure what happens next. He should fall apart into pieces, Sehun thinks. He shouldn’t be able to withstand such… such power. 

But Junmyeon stands tall, strong. And he whispers. 

The ball of energy that courses out is bright like hypergiants, shaking and white. It builds above them, and in the light, the Night Mare is ghostly and boned, thick with smoke. It disintegrates as Junmyeon works, the clouds crackling with booming fire and light as the antimatter swirls. But the spell doesn’t stop, building and building above them like Junmyeon’s… like he’s building a star. Sehun’s never seen anything like it, never even _heard_ of a spell like the one he’s casting. He’s strong. And Sehun knew that, but… he looks _perfect_. Flawless. 

Sehun looks around, tries to spot the thing, but it’s nowhere to be found. Kyungsoo is searching the sky, a bright beam of light at the head of his staff, and it beams through the clouds of smoke. But nothing. Is that it? It couldn’t be. It couldn’t possibly be over. 

“She’s gone,” Kyungsoo shouts as a warning, and Sehun knows it is a mistake because instinctively, Junmyeon looks, turns.

Just like that, the spell is broken, the light of the burgeoning star dead in the cold, grey sky. 

Junmyeon shuts his eyes, and Sehun can see the frustration leak out of him over the dusty earth. 

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo apologizes quickly, “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re good,” Junmyeon says, and he builds himself back up so quickly, Sehun can hardly believe it. “Come on, let’s try fearfights again, all of us.” 

The Night Mare zips around them in the clouds, movement fast like glinting light off mirrors. Sehun closes his eyes because if he stares at it trying to track the movement, he thinks the Mare’s horrible snout, ablaze and smoking, will be the last thing he ever sees. 

He breathes the word into noise, into horrible, screeching noise, and as he spins his staff, he feels it erupt out of them, out of the three of them like a wall of sheer power, of light and blessed silence. 

“Shit, _shit_ ,” he hears, and he opens his eyes, watching the triumph unfold for himself. 

The giant creature is consumed with giant ropes of yellow light, cording around its legs. Sehun’s chest heaves as he watches the horrible thing stumble, flummoxed and breathing with furious, guttural whinnies as it tries to escape. But the fearfights trap the creature in its form, and they tangle and tie over each other in a mass of glowing light. It works perfectly, works better than they ever could have imagined, and he continues to work his arm in the circle, the muscles flexing as leftover adrenaline courses through his veins. 

The tangles begin to knot and pull as the Night Mare struggles against the binds, and Kyungsoo lets out a gasp of surprise, a noise that tells Sehun what he’s seeing is real. That what is presented to him is fact. 

The Night Mare’s knees buckle, and she collapses to the red earth, a cloud of dust billowing out around them, devouring them whole. Sehun fights to keep his eyes clear, to keep the spell cast, and just as the dust storm falls, he watches as the fearfights wrap around the monstrosity’s thick neck. He watches as its eyes go white and scared. He watches as the ropes of yellow light strangle the thing dead, the pulsing of noise left to puddle at their feet as quiet fills its absence. 

Sehun holds his breath in his chest. Holds it until he’s sure it’s over. A second, and then a second more. _There isn’t any way. This can’t be real._

He breathes out, watches the smoke settle to the ground, and he can’t believe it. Can’t believe they’ve actually done it. He spins, looks around, expects for something to crawl out of the darkness, something terrible, something they didn’t expect, but nothing comes. Nothing comes. He looks at Kyungsoo, sees his mouth open with surprise. Looks at Junmyeon, sees him just as confused, just as shocked.

“T-That can’t be it,” Junmyeon whispers. “That can’t be… it can’t be _over_ just like that.” 

Sehun can’t begin to understand it, but there before them lies the body of the atrocity, broken and twisted and gnarled. Massive and awful. Slowly, slowly, the thing begins to shrink before their very eyes, and no longer is it an atrocity. No longer is it terrifying beyond the mind’s imagination. 

It is a small thing, only slightly bigger than any of them. 

“W-What in the whole fuck?” Junmyeon whispers. 

“What is going on?” Sehun asks, as if any of them have any idea. He turns to Kyungsoo. “What the fuck?” 

Kyungsoo shoots him a look, eyes warm and loving, and Sehun falls a little deeper then, a slide that seems unstoppable. His stomach aches as he watches Kyungsoo tentatively step forward, looking so small as he goes. 

“H-Hey,” Sehun says, fear still gripping him by the throat, “hey, be careful.” 

Kyungsoo looks back over his shoulder with a weak smile before turning back around, walking ever closer to the body. Sehun casts a spell, a basic defensive bubble, and he sends it over, watching it envelop Kyungsoo easily in a cloud of gold. 

“I’m fine,” he calls back. 

“Just as a precaution,” Sehun says, and the air is fraught, tense with the leftovers of danger, peril, strife. 

They watch as Kyungsoo gently rests his hand against the leathery-looking skin of the Night Mare’s muzzle. And Kyungsoo closes his eyes, looks entirely serene. Sehun keeps the spell up, feels the total _opposite_ of serene, hands firm on his staff as he keeps watch over the proceedings. 

“He’s fine,” Junmyeon whispers. “He knows what he’s doing.” 

“Just in case,” Sehun mutters back. Then, Kyungsoo opens his eyes, and without a word, the burst of protection around him surges, Sehun on high alert. “Okay?” 

“It’s dead,” Kyungsoo says. “But it’s a… It’s a fucking—you’re not gonna believe me.” 

Sehun lowers the spell, and the pair of them, he and Junmyeon, hurry over. Little puffs of red dust skip into the air behind their feet, and Junmyeon stops short, but Sehun keeps going. Stands over Kyungsoo.

Sehun stares down at it, tries to see what Kyungsoo is seeing, but all he sees is the remains of a beast. The oxygenated red of its muscle-whip tail going brown. 

“It’s a liminality,” Kyungsoo says. “Look at it.” 

All of a sudden, the facade of the creature falls away, shuddering into the revelation: a small creature, limbs long and thin, ghostly white and glowing in death. It has pointed ears, a long thin nose, sharp teeth. Paper thin wings. It’s no larger than any of them. No more complicated to kill than any of them.

_How could this be?_

“W-What is this?” Sehun asks, and he stares at them with wide eyes, his hands shaking as he desperately clenches his fingers around his staff. “Does this mean…” 

“It doesn’t mean anything yet,” Junmyeon says. “This little liminality might have been the Night Mare all along. You might have made a mistake.” 

“We didn’t make a _mistake_ ,” Sehun says. “There was no _mistake_.” 

Junmyeon looks at him funny. “Don’t take it personally. Liminalities are hard to uncover.” He reaches forward, runs his hand over the glittering, transparent wings. “They hide. That’s their thing.” 

“Minseok… it was too _strong_ for a liminality,” Sehun argues. “He wouldn’t have died just like that.” He looks down at the creature, and he feels a streak of sadness in his esophagus. “This can’t be right.” 

“It _was_ sort of… sort of strange, wasn’t it? Today, I mean,” Kyungsoo says. “I mean, it should have been on us in a minute. The Night Mare, it was like it could smell us. But this… it was so timid. It didn’t come for hours. And a liminality wouldn’t show up on the scan either, so…” 

“So you think the real thing is still out there?” Junmyeon asks. He looks up to the sky. “And yet the storms have passed.” 

“This makes… this doesn’t make any sense,” Sehun says, and he tries with all his mind and heart to understand. “Why wouldn’t it be here?” 

“Maybe it was,” Junmyeon says, and he looks around at the smoking ruin of what once was. “Maybe it’s still here.” 

“What makes you say that?” Kyungsoo asks, voice calm, even. 

He crouches down alongside the creature, staff on the ground next to him. He braces his hand along the dead liminality, and Sehun can see the shiver that runs through it. It is nothing more than a tremble, and yet— 

“Fuck,” Junmyeon says, and he immediately grabs for his staff. “Run. _Run._ ” 

Just as they turn, the looming shadow of the Night Mare rises once more, more ferocious, more terrible. Sehun moves as fast as his legs can carry him, thinking _Just let us get to the ships. Just let us get home in one piece._

He is too curious, too eager to know, and when he looks back over his shoulder, he sees the creature split from the liminality, shedding the facade like a suit. The Night Mare rears up in a cloud of darkness and shadow, and Sehun’s mouth is dry as he looks forward again. 

_Get back to the ships_ , he thinks. _All you have to do is get back to the ships._

He feels the cold and the grey around him, feels it swallowing them up, and they are too slow. Of course, they are too slow. 

Junmyeon is out in front of him and Kyungsoo, leading the escape, and Sehun watches it in what seems like slow motion, the way his body ragdolls. Sehun, open-mouthed, wants to scream, wants to yell, but he doesn’t even know if he would be able to hear himself over all the noise, the terrible shrieking of the creature. 

Junmyeon is thrown into the side of a crumbling red-stone building, limp and lifeless, and Sehun watches as blood pours out of his mouth, his eyes slipping shut like metal doors. _Oh no_ , Sehun thinks. _No. Please, no._

But Junmyeon doesn’t open his eyes. And Sehun’s gut fills with poison. He should have waited. They all should have waited. It was suicide. And now everyone’s wrists are open. 

The creature breathes magic and terror, and when Kyungsoo spins around, facing the monstrosity, trying the Ellisier in a furious last-ditch effort, the winds whip into a frenzy as the magic pulses from his staff, the combined strength of them both blowing him off his feet. Sehun barely has a chance to scream before Kyungsoo is thrown backwards, his body slamming against a building with a force that looks as though it could be… could have been _lethal_. 

_No_ , he thinks, his feet slowing to a stop on instinct. _Not this. Not me on my own._

The Night Mare turns, its neck craning, and Sehun feels ice sparkle its way through him. Here, at the end of his world, he wonders what they will say about him. What they will say about them all. He, Junmyeon… Kyungsoo. He wonders. He hopes it will be something nice. Something lovely. 

The Mare disintegrates into the clouds, and he wants to turn and run, but in a secret place inside himself, he thinks he always knew it would end somewhere like this. 

He stands there, thinking that he should run. That he should try and save himself. Limp through the hangar doors, cry in his interview, let the recollection be pulled from his mind and flushed down the drain. It is such a bleak vision, but it is his future if he runs. 

_No_ , he thinks again. _If I die, then I die here with them._

He holds his staff out in front of him, parallel with the ground, and he lets the spell charge through his neurons as he thinks the precious words. The Crystym pours out of him, splintering through the red earth, and he thinks that Kyungsoo would have been proud of him. 

Junmyeon too. 

He surrounds himself in a cavern, lets the crystals grow so ferociously that soon, they will eat him alive. He shuts his eyes. Waits. Waits. There is noise, but he cannot hear it, not with the silence in his heart. 

He remembers the sound of Kyungsoo’s laugh, and it fills him up inside. 

Suddenly, the crystals surrounding him shatter into a trillion pieces, razor sharp, and he screams in furious pain as he is cut, as the crystals slice him along his cheek, along his brow. He is thrown with a strong gale, flying backwards through glittering winds, and he hopes it is over now, but he knows that it isn’t. 

Sehun lands on the ground, the creature surging out of the ethereal and the astral, and horror grips him. _We underestimated her, and now I pay the price._ He blinks quickly, overwhelmed, and fear—true, unadulterated fear—lances through him. 

The Night Mare stalks forward, stares down at him with those bloody red eyes, glistening and cruel, and suddenly, it rears, screaming and shrieking so loudly that it all but bursts his eardrums. Sehun tries to focus, tries to scramble back, tries to get out of the way, tries to get his staff, tries. Tries. He always tried. 

When the Night Mare comes down, her right hoof, gigantic, lands directly on his leg, the weight of it so shocking that Sehun only stares at it for a moment, wide-eyed before the pain even registers. It crushes his leg into splinters, and the scream that is ripped from his mouth feels like a prayer for mercy. The pain is white hot, and it shakes through him as he bites his lip so hard that he thinks he might bite clean through it. 

The monster stares down at him, huffing, the fire in its nose, and Sehun shuts his eyes. 

He has only a second to think, a millisecond to let _I wish I told him I loved him_ cross his mind before there is a blinding flash of white light, and he is dead. 

He is dead. He is entirely dead. He must be. 

He opens an eye. Sees the smoking ruin of the Night Mare fall to the earth, knees buckling under its great weight. A breath gasps out of him, and he sucks it back in, alarmed to find that he is alive, breathing, bleeding. 

He looks, sees Junmyeon standing there, gasping, hands on his staff staring as the Night Mare dies another death. He looks the way a Black suit should look, standing tall and strong, his shoulders broad. He looks… he looks _terrible_ but wonderful, a lumped-up bruise on the side of his head, blood dripping from his lips, teeth all mangled in his mouth. Sehun is dizzy with his suffering, but he thinks he would like to fall into Junmyeon’s arms, hold him close and tell him _Thank you, thank you._

Junmyeon turns away, and suddenly, reality comes rushing back in. Kyungsoo. _Kyungsoo._

“Hey,” Sehun says, voice hoarse, lips covered in dust and blood. “W-Wh—” 

Sehun watches as Junmyeon stumbles back to the ship, grabs something from the cockpit, and belatedly, he realizes that it is a mini medmach. Junmyeon makes his way over, sits next to Sehun, firmly attaches the pack to Sehun’s hip. 

“What are you doing?” Sehun asks, and he points at Kyungsoo. “Go get him. Go _get him_ , what are you _doing_?” 

“He’ll be okay,” Junmyeon says, but the words come out all funny as he spits blood onto the ground next to them. “He’s just knocked out, same as me.” 

“H-How do you know?” Sehun asks, and once Junmyeon grabs his hand, he realizes that he was shaking furiously. The trembling dies once Junmyeon takes him “How do you know he’s okay?” 

“I just know, okay?” Junmyeon says. “Shut up and lie there and get your leg fixed.” 

Sehun is wordless as the pain overwhelms him, and he wonders how Junmyeon can manage. His teeth are… his mouth is a mess. And it must be agonizing. But he sits over Sehun, watches the medmach run, hovering above as it scans Sehun up and down. When it determines the problem, the shattered pieces of what’s left of his leg, it beeps and blinks blue before it begins to work. 

First, there is a numbing agent, vials full of transparent liquid injected into him, and he bites his lip as it sizzles in his blood before it puts the pain in the back of his mind. He sighs out, unaware at how much tension he was holding in his jaw, in his core, in his fists, and he lies back against the dirt for a second, shutting his eyes. Blessed relief. 

“Good,” Junmyeon mutters, and when Sehun opens his eyes, Junmyeon is smiling down at him, bloody. 

It makes Sehun’s skin crawl. He… he always just lets people take care of him. He’s always so selfish. 

“Y-You… you should take this,” Sehun says, and he tries to pull the medmach off his body even as the micromachines whir out of the device, immediately going to repair the bone, screws and pins threading him back together. “Take it, your te—”

“Shut up,” Junmyeon mutters, and he spits another mouthful of blood onto the dust. “Just lie there.” Sehun continues to struggle, but when Junmyeon puts his hand over Sehun’s, he looks up into Junmyeon’s eyes. “Come on.” It comes out all muffled and broken, the words leaping over shards of hard calcium. “I’m fine.” 

The fricative is all but nonexistent, and it makes Sehun spit out a laugh. 

“I’m sorry,” Sehun says, horrified as tears leap to his eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for?” Junmyeon wonders. “We’re alive. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” 

Junmyeon laces their hands together, and blood continues to drip from his mouth. 

“Don’t,” Sehun says, and his eyes are so watery that he can barely see Junmyeon through it. “I’m sorry. It was… It was all my fault.” 

“Nah,” Junmyeon mutters. “You did good.” He brushes his fingers along the cuts on Sehun’s face, and Sehun winces. “Look at you. All cut up.” 

“Stop, your… your mouth.” 

“It’s fine,” Junmyeon grins, and the gore of it almost makes Sehun want to vomit. Thankfully, Junmyeon closes his mouth again. “I’ve had worse.” 

_This is a Black suit_ , Sehun thinks, staring up at him in wonder. 

“Close your eyes, okay?” Junmyeon mutters. “I’m gonna get another medmach from the ship. I’ll be right back.” 

“Okay,” Sehun says. “Okay, but—”

“Fix my teeth,” Junmyeon says, and he wipes some of the blood away from his chin. “Yeah, I got it.” 

Sehun smiles as he watches him stand, walking over to a stirring Kyungsoo, and just as Sehun’s eyes start to close of their own accord, he sees Kyungsoo rise, rubbing at his head, shooting a smile at Junmyeon. 

The world goes black, but it is a comforting black. The happy kind.  
  


♄

He does not dream, and when he wakes, he has no idea how long he’s been asleep.

A bright star shines overhead, drenching him in warmth. He stretches happily, feels an ache in his leg that reminds him that he looked horror in the face. That he survived with the help of his friends. He doesn’t know that he’s ever been so on the edge, pulled right back from the brink. He’s been in danger before, that much is obvious, but only one other time has he thought _This is where I’ll die._

Exhilaration crackles through him, and he snorts, wondering how he manages to get out of these messes, time and time again. Maybe fate is on his side after all. It is obscene. Ridiculous. Nothing makes any sense, and he laughs as he thinks about it. What kind of cosmic joke is all of this? It is so stupid. It is so fucking crazy. He doesn’t know what’s happening to him, but he starts to shiver with laughter, thick and pulsing in his chest. 

He gasps as his chest caves in, pushing out furious, silly laughter in fits. 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon says, his voice directly in Sehun’s ear through the piece. “Are you okay? What’s going on?” 

Sehun can understand him now, can clearly make out every word, every syllable. He must have been out for a while. Junmyeon’s teeth must be repaired. 

“I’m okay,” Sehun laughs, trying to catch his breath. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” 

“Hold on, we’re coming back,” Junmyeon says. 

“No, no.” The laughter is stolen from him. “I’m good. H-Hold on.” 

His mouth is dry when he sits up, feels the remnants of pain sitting tense in his leg. He makes a little wounded noise before looking around, seeing the planet calm in the morning. It is beautiful, far more beautiful now that the atrocity is disposed of. It is still ashy with grey snow, but there is room to grow now. There is time to rebuild. 

Trembling with effort, he raises himself up, toe-touching with his right leg as he hobbles around, using his staff as a crutch. He makes his way back to the ships, but finds them deserted. 

Sehun looks around, stares at the decayed, crumbled infrastructure. All the buildings are red stone, some more dust than rock now. They connect in a maze, and Sehun wanders along the side of the building for a while, looking for an entrance. In an ugly sort of way, the planet is very pretty, and Sehun commits it to memory. He wonders what kind of people lived here. Wonders what they did for a living. What they thought of the universe. If they loved and lost. He’s sure that they must have. It is the only thing that separates them from the monsters. The loving and the losing. 

He runs his gloved hand over the wall, and once he finds an entry point, he walks through the shell of the room, what’s left of the doorway wide enough for six ships to fit through, the ceiling open to look upon the sky. There are still remnants of life there in the hollowed out room, tables and chairs that have been broken apart. They are made from a material that Sehun’s never seen before, some kind of grained metal. It almost looks like… like wood. He reaches out, strokes the tip of his finger along the leg of a chair and watches with rapt interest as it crumbles to dust. 

“Sehun?” Kyungsoo’s voice calls through the earpiece.

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says, “where the hell are you guys? I went back to the ships.” 

“Junmyeon wanted to explore a little before we left,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m dropping a pin.” 

Sehun hears the plinking sound of the coordinates, so he raises his bracer up, taps as he looks at a map of the surroundings. 

“Got it,” Sehun says. “Just, uh, give me a minute.” 

“Your leg okay?” Junmyeon asks. “Good to move on your own?”

“I’m good.” 

Sehun turns through the winding halls, eyes glued to the bracer and the pulsing GPS, and after a while, he struggles to keep upright on his leg. He braces his hands along the dusty stone walls, tries to keep his tempo up. He should go back to the ship for the mini medmach, see if it can give him anything for the residual pain, but he doesn’t want to fall behind. Doesn’t want to become redundant and expendable. 

He rounds the final corner into a ghastly room, and Sehun is nearly bowled over by the energy that drenches him. He walks a little further into the darkened room, a slab of stone ceiling blocking out the light of the star overhead. He sees the broad of Kyungsoo and Junmyeon’s backs looming over… over something. He looks around, sees more of the same ruin as everywhere else. The building that they stand in is unstable, and pieces of rubble from the ceiling fall. Sehun is forced to move further in, closer to them. 

There are pages of… of _books_ strewn around the room, and they dance in a circle around him as a wind makes its way through the room. It was… perhaps, it was a library. He looks around him, sees dozens upon dozens of books, their pages ripped from spines, covered with a thin coat of dust. 

“What are you looking at?” Sehun asks, and he uses his staff to raise up a small piece of paper to his hand. A language he cannot read. He grabs his bracer, taps for the language scanner, and sets it to work. 

Curiously, the scanner blinks red in error. Sehun taps the scanner, runs it again, but he gets the same error message. He furrows his brow. He wordlessly folds the paper, stuffs it into his pocket for further examination. He looks back up, sees them still standing over the same thing, not even bothering to look back at him. 

“What’s going on?” Sehun asks. “What’s—” 

Junmyeon turns, looks over his shoulder with a dazzling smile that nearly knocks Sehun on his ass. 

“We found something special,” he says, the wide grin still painted on his face. 

Kyungsoo looks back at Sehun, and his face is made of stone. “It’s not special. It’s dangerous.” Sehun immediately moves a bit, begins to crane his neck to look over the two of them, intrigued. “No. Stay over there.” 

“What is it?” Sehun asks, and he walks closer, tries to get a better look. 

“I told you no.” 

“If you guys get to look, then I wanna look too,” Sehun says, and he shoves his way closer, shoulders between them to see… “It’s just a book.” 

“It’s not just a book,” Kyungsoo says, and his voice is full of worry. “I’m serious. Don’t get anywhere near that.” 

Sehun ignores him with a smile, stares down at the old leathery book, wondering what’s so important or special about it. It’s still together which is saying something, but it’s not so remarkable as to inspire fear… is it? Sehun studies it for a moment. It is a large book, a title stamped in red across the dark cover. It is beautiful in the way that almost all antiques are. There is an interesting story about it. Sehun is sure of that. 

“I’ve read about that,” Kyungsoo says, and when Sehun looks back, there is genuine terror in his eyes, same as before when they were staring down an atrocity the likes of which man has never seen before. “Don’t fucking touch it.” 

He stares at the cover, wondering what kind of secrets could be hidden inside. What truths? What power? It is a thick tome, the pages yellowed with age, its black leather cover similarly old and worn out. He is inclined to trust Kyungsoo with his life, he _does_ trust Kyungsoo with his life. So why now, all of a sudden, does he want to open the book, see what comes spilling out? 

Sehun looks back over his shoulder, narrows his gaze on Kyungsoo. “Why not, huh?” He turns from the book, approaches Kyungsoo. “What’s wrong with it?” 

“Can’t you feel it? There’s a curse,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s really dark shit.” 

There is a sound, a filtered laugh, and Sehun turns, biting his smile, to see Junmyeon still staring at the book. 

“You believe in all that?” Junmyeon asks, tilting the book down, studying every last square centimeter of it. “Curses?” 

“Of course I do,” Kyungsoo says, and as Sehun looks over his shoulder, Kyungsoo is squinting at them, angry. “It’s true. We… I mean, we study _magic_. Why wouldn’t I believe in curses?” 

“Because it’s silly,” Junmyeon says. “Someone started that rumor to keep cowards at bay.” 

“I’m not a coward,” Kyungsoo insists. 

“Well, what do you suppose we do with this then, hm?” Junmyeon asks. “Because it’s incredibly rare, and I don’t think the Agency will want to just… leave it where it lies.” 

“No, of course not,” Sehun says. “We should—” 

“We have a duty, and that duty is to bring it back for research. We don’t… we don’t _touch it_.”

Sehun turns away, strangely enthralled by the idea. Peril. Mystery. He’s drunk on the adrenaline. On the victory. 

Sehun watches as Junmyeon brushes his fingertips against the torn cover of the book, the fingers of his glove dancing across the branching veins of the leather. Sehun feels a healthy bit of fear tingle along his skin, but there is something exhilarating about this kind of danger, especially after a fight. 

“Come on,” Kyungsoo says. “We’ve done enough exploring for one lifetime, I think.” 

He walks off, and he leaves Sehun and Junmyeon staring down at the book. Junmyeon looks up at Sehun, smiling. He must have gotten his teeth fixed while Sehun was out because they look pristine when he grins. 

“What do you think is inside?” Junmyeon asks, and it is so enticing that Sehun wants to reach out, wants to flip open the cover. 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. “Do you know?”

“I have some ideas,” Junmyeon whispers, and then with a coy wink, “Don't tell Kyungsoo.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes even as he smiles, looking down at the strangely magnetic book. Sehun is just about to tap on his scanner, figure out what language the book was written in when he feels a yanking at the back of his neck.

“Come on,” Kyungsoo says, and he begins to pull Sehun by the collar, his fingers phasing through the mask as Sehun smiles sheepishly at him. “Let’s get home.” 

His voice is a song, one that Sehun has memorized, and even though it only takes a couple minutes, the sound of him humming makes Sehun close his eyes, unwind, take it all in. They did it. They _won_.  
  


♄

The return to the hangar is a gentle descent, and he doesn’t even mind the cramped quarters. The medmach worked its magic as they rode, and he doesn’t even have any pain anymore, just the phantom of it. He remembers the pain, and he closes his eyes as he laughs, thinking of it. How in the fuck did they make it out alive? He finds it very difficult to be anything but joyous, his heart both full and light, almost unbearably light.

He breathes out in the tight air, tries to settle his stomach as the nerves and the energy rattle around inside of him. He thinks of Minseok then, feels guilty then. He shouldn’t be so happy. He shouldn’t have even gotten this far. Tears split his eyes, and he lets them fall, overwhelmed with the amount of emotion inside him. They live in such starkness. Black and then so much white. 

“Hey,” Junmyeon says through his ear. “You all right?” 

“I’m good,” Sehun says, and he sniffs, coughs. “I’m fine.” 

“You sound… bad,” Junmyeon comments. 

“Shut up.” He wipes his eyes. “I’m fine.” 

“Whatever.” 

Sehun leans back as the ship finally touches back down, the dome unfurling from above him. For a second, all he does is stare at the corrugated metal of the hangar’s roof, studying it, but within a moment or two, Kyungsoo’s face is above him, smiling and soft. 

“Okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “You?” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says, and he reaches into the ship, grabs Sehun’s hand, balls it up. He guides Sehun’s fist to his temple, knocks Sehun’s knuckles there. “I’m tougher than you think.” 

_Maybe this is the moment_ , Sehun thinks. _What better time is there than this?_ They so narrowly escaped with their lives. They came so far and almost lost. He can’t wait around any longer, not when Kyungsoo has Sehun’s hand in his, not when he is staring down at Sehun with those beautiful eyes. 

“N-No, I just—” 

“Come on,” Junmyeon calls. “We gotta check in and do recollections, and the longer we wait—” 

Sehun sighs, heavy. Kyungsoo smiles down at him. 

“Up and at ‘em,” he says, and he pulls Sehun by the hand until he is jumping from the cockpit of the ship, out to the debriefing rooms.

The moment will come, he tells himself. Sooner or later, he will get his chance.  
  


♄

The recollection is drawn, and the interview commences immediately afterwards. Sehun wishes that they could do the interviews as a triad, as a _group_ , but he squares his jaw, presses his thumb against the scanners, lets them ask him whatever they want. He doesn’t want to answer, doesn’t feel that they need anything but the recollection itself, but he folds his arms across his chest and dutifully ignores the funny tingling in his leg.

He’s alive. He’s alive. 

“Our mission was a success,” Sehun answers, “yes.” 

“Please elaborate,” the director says. “Explain the proceedings as best you recall.” 

“We arrived on the planet at approximately oh eight hundred fifteen, and things were immediately pretty different from our first experience with the creature,” Sehun explains. 

“Please elaborate.” 

“As I’m sure you’ve seen based on the recollections,” Sehun says starchly, “the disposal was not… prompt.” 

“How long would you say you waited for the Night Mare to appear?” 

“Roughly eight hours,” Sehun answers. 

“Did you run a life scan?” 

“We did.” 

There is silence, thick heavy silence, and if Sehun cared a little bit more, he would break it, offer something. But all he can think about now is getting out of here, seeing Kyungsoo, seeing Junmyeon. The celebration of their success. 

“Thank you, Agent. That’s all we need for today,” a director says suddenly. 

“Wait, really?” Sehun says, and it’s difficult for him to keep the shock out of his voice, even though he means to. “I mean… isn’t there more information? Shouldn’t I—” 

“Your health is our priority,” the director says. “Please enter your cabin’s medmach at your earliest convenience. And take the time between this and your next deployment to rest.” 

“O-Okay,” Sehun says. “Uh, thank you.” 

“Thank _you_ , Agent,” another director says. “Your loyalty towards the Agency is remarkable, and we and the rest of the universe are grateful for your service. Commendations are certainly in order.”

“C-Commendations?” 

“Along with a promotion,” the director says. “Grey 4. Congratulations.” 

Sehun is lost for words, wave after wave of happiness drenched over him. He’s almost there. He’s so close now. Everything he’s ever wanted. Black rank. 

“I-I’m… _thank you_ ,” he mutters. “Thank you.” 

“It is our duty to promote agents worthy, agents that demonstrate their skill, honor, and bravery.” The shivering blue wave stops. Sehun watches it still before it leaps back into motion. “You deserve this, Agent.” 

“T-Thanks,” Sehun says. “So, I’ll just…” 

“If you need help reaching your cabin, please let an access unit know,” the director says. “You remember where to find the information on your bracer, correct?”

“N—yes, I remember, but I should be… I should be good,” Sehun says, and he pushes out of the chair, confused and heartened by how quickly everything is moving. “Thanks. I’ll… I’ll go, I guess.” 

“Remember,” a director says. “Rest well.” 

Sehun smiles smally, trying not to let his heart jump with the shock of it. 

“I will.”  
  


♄

Sehun makes his way back to the cabin slowly, uses his staff to steady himself. His leg feels different now. Not painful, just quite different. It takes some getting used to, and as he travels back to his building, walking through the quiet halls milling with people, he wonders where Kyungsoo and Junmyeon are. Wonders if they were told the same thing. Rest. Recover.

Pride shouldn’t sit so easily on his shoulders, but he wears it comfortably. He’s never gotten such commendations from the directors before, and their praise, though stilted, felt beautiful. His parents were always so free with compliments when he was growing up. He’s nearly forgotten what they taste like. 

When he steps through the sliding doors of his cabin, it is near empty, only a few stragglers to keep him company. He taps his bracer, and the time flashes up. Most are probably congregating after Third. 

Sehun doesn’t address either of the agents who rest in their bunks. He places his staff onto his bed, hobbling over towards the medmach. When he sits inside, the lights begin to flash, so he shuts his eyes, lets it work. After a moment or two, he can’t feel anything below his waist at all, so he breathes out, ignoring the sensation entirely. 

He gets a blood readout in the meantime, and by the time he’s finished studying that, the medmach breaks open in front of him, and he steps out.

“Oh,” Sehun says. “Hey.” 

“Hi,” Kyungsoo says. “Can I… Can I sit?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Sehun says, furrowing his brow, holding out his hands towards the bed as if to say _Take whatever you want._ “How did your interview go?” 

Kyungsoo sits, folds his hands across his lap. Sehun stands over him, watches him, wants to hear everything he has to say. 

“Really… Really well?” He squints, shakes his head. “I don’t know. It was great.” 

“Same,” Sehun says. “They basically said they were proud of me.” 

“Me too,” Kyungsoo says, and he looks into Sehun’s eyes. “What the hell is that, right?” 

“Yeah, I dunno.” He sits next to Kyungsoo on his bed, their thighs resting against one another. “It was… it was nice.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Feeling like they gave a shit. Feeling like what we’re doing means something.” 

“Yeah.” Sehun sees Kyungsoo move out of the corner of his eye, so he turns, looks at him, finds Kyungsoo looking back at him. “I’m… I’m happy. For the first time since…” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, choking back the emotional tears that rise in his throat. “Yeah, same.” 

Kyungsoo reaches out a hand, and Sehun stares down at it for a second or two before taking it in his own, lacing their fingers together. 

“I’m here for you,” Kyungsoo whispers, and he lays his head on Sehun’s shoulder. “I’m always gonna be here for you. You’re… you mean so much to me, okay?” He squeezes Sehun’s hand in his. “If you… if you want to talk to me about the things that happen to us, what we’ve gone through, things you’re thinking or feeling…” and he rocks his body into Sehun’s, comforting and warm, “you can. You always can.” He exhales a breath, and Sehun can feel it. “Don’t be afraid.” 

Sehun is overwhelmed, and he looks up to the blank, clean white ceiling until he’s able to blink the tears away from his eyes. 

“Thank you,” he says. And he clears his throat, squeezes Kyungsoo’s hand in his. “And… and same for you. Obviously.” 

Kyungsoo shudders out a laugh, squeezes back. It feels like a pulse, like they’re squeezing a heart between their entwined hands. Trying to keep the blood flowing. 

“We should go see Junmyeon,” Kyungsoo suggests. “See if he wants to celebrate a little.” He looks at Sehun, light and love, and Sehun dreams about leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. About laying Kyungsoo down on his bed. About showing him how he really feels. “What do you think? Wanna go get food?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Just… after a minute, okay?” 

Kyungsoo holds Sehun’s hand in his. 

“All right. Another minute.”  
  


♄

The cafeteria is empty when they walk in, an eerie feeling as the pressure sensitive floor turns the lights on. It’s bright, like morning, and Sehun squints as they head over to the serving areas. He taps in an order, simple snack food: veggie sticks, protein bites, a shake, and some pepchocs for him and Kyungsoo to share. Once he’s done ordering, he taps _Finished_ , waits for the food to dispense from the machine. One by one, he sets the items onto his tray, and he meanders back towards the table, sitting across from Kyungsoo.

He looks back over his shoulder, looks at Junmyeon still tapping away at his display. 

“He’s gonna take all night,” Kyungsoo smiles, and he kicks Sehun gently under the table. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” Sehun says, and he doesn’t understand how they’ve come so far, and just a simple word can leave him reeling. 

Kyungsoo unfolds the wrapper from a sandwich, tucks in, and Sehun tries not to watch him, instead focuses on his shake, sipping it through a straw. 

Junmyeon clatters down to the table a couple moments later, alarming, interrupting the pleasant quiet, and Sehun guesses that they’ve finally found their places, how they all get along. Junmyeon is noise amid the silence, and Sehun wonders if he likes it. Knows, at the very least, that he doesn’t actively hate it. 

“Hey, nerds.” Junmyeon smiles. “What are we talking about?” 

“Nothing,” Sehun answers. 

Junmyeon nods as he sits, and then, in the matter of seconds, he manages to pick Sehun apart. 

“You are so boring,” Junmyeon says, gesturing towards Sehun’s tray. “Don’t you ever eat anything that’s not like, good for you?” 

“Shakes aren’t good for you,” Sehun says, and he jostles his drink back and forth. “See?” 

“It’s a bluebeet shake. That’s practically a dietary restriction,” Junmyeon says, and he rolls his eyes. “Live a little.” 

“I’m living.” 

“Only a little,” Junmyeon says with a wink, and Sehun decides he doesn’t like that implication. 

Sehun looks down at _Junmyeon’s_ tray, sees all kinds of triple-fried things, cheesy and chocolatey and salty things that he’s never seen any agent beyond a Grey 2 eat so shamelessly. Part of their learning is how to care for themselves, how to eat well and treat their bodies like an extension of their magic. Junmyeon comes in, shatters everything Sehun knows. 

“What, you judging me?” Junmyeon asks, and he dunks his cheese stick into dressing, eats it happily. 

“No,” Sehun says. “You’re just disgusting.” 

Junmyeon laughs sharply, kicks Sehun gently under the table, and it feels less knowing, less familiar than Kyungsoo’s, but not terrible. Not like before. It is a wonder what a near-death experience can do for a relationship. Sehun looks at Junmyeon fondly. Thinks _I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for him._ It paints things differently, makes Sehun loosen up just a little when he looks at Junmyeon. 

“What?” Junmyeon asks, and he gestures with a cheese stick. “Want one?” 

Sehun smiles. “I’m good.”  
  


♄

It is later that evening, and they sit outside on the quad. The night is black and thick with stars, and Sehun’s eyes slowly adjust to the lack of light. They lie on the turf, backs against the fake grass, and they stare up into forever. Sehun always finds clarity, peace when he looks at the sky, and it is the perfect ending to the day, tying it all together nicely. They went. They won. And now, they’re able to rest. He shuts his eyes, feels sleep beginning to step closer and closer to him, his breathing evening out. It is easy to forget the morning. The terror. He puts it away. Locks it up inside himself. There are worse things than dying. Much, much worse. He had a good day.

“I’m bored,” Junmyeon announces. “I thought this was supposed to be a celebration.” 

“It is,” Kyungsoo says. “What’s more celebratory than a good sky observation?” 

Junmyeon snorts, and Sehun can hear Kyungsoo’s smile. 

“My old triad would have been doing shots by now,” Junmyeon says, and suddenly a thought streaks through Sehun’s mind. 

_Whatever happened to Junmyeon’s old triad?_

It doesn’t feel like the right time to ask, so he keeps it to himself, tells himself that he’ll ask another day. Any other night. Sehun keeps his eyes on the stars, dense and bright, until he sees movement at his side. 

He tilts his head, sees Junmyeon grabbing something out of the pocket of his jumpsuit. It is a small bio-bottle, the kind that store the shakes and the En-supplements except scaled down. Junmyeon could probably fit five or more in the center of his hand. And the contents are not like anything Sehun has ever seen before. The bio-bottle is filled with a pink liquid of some sort, vibrant and attractive. 

“Want one?” 

Sehun looks into his eyes. “What is it?” He stares down at the bottle. “I mean, what does it do?” 

“You are so cute,” Junmyeon praises, and he sits up sharply. “Come on. Let's at least do one together. As a celebration.” 

Sehun sits up beside him before Kyungsoo joins them, running his fingers through his hair. 

“We shouldn’t,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Why not?” Junmyeon says. “There’s no side effects. There’s no risk of addiction. It's just for fun.” 

Kyungsoo narrows his eyes like he doesn’t trust it, and Sehun wonders if he should be as discerning. 

“Come _on_ ,” Junmyeon goads, and he shoves his shoulder into Sehun’s. “Don’t be a coward.” 

“I’m not a _coward_ ,” Sehun says, and he folds his arms across his chest. “I just don’t see any point in it.” 

“That’s because you’ve never done it before,” Junmyeon says. “Have you?” 

“No, of course not.” 

Junmyeon looks over at Kyungsoo. “You?” 

“No,” Kyungsoo says. “Never.” 

“Why not?” 

“I’m not much of a rule breaker,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Straight EOs, huh?” 

“Nah,” Kyungsoo smiles. “I also wasn’t much of a student.” 

Junmyeon smiles at him, all teeth, and Sehun’s stomach goes all twisted inside him.

“I’ll try it,” Sehun says, and he grabs the bottle out of Junmyeon’s hand, staring down at it. “Uh. What do I do with it?” 

“You drink it, dummy,” Junmyeon snorts. “Are you really as old as you say you are?” 

Sehun scowls before dumping the sweet-tasting liquid into his mouth. It coats his tongue with a film before it slips down his throat, and the feeling of weightlessness is immediate even as his body stays right where it is, sitting across the turf. 

“Whoa,” Sehun says, and he goes a little dizzy with the feeling. “Whoa, that’s—”

“Crazy, right?” Junmyeon smiles. “Do another, and you’ll start seeing colors.” 

“Shit,” Sehun says, standing up and testing his weight. His knees feel like jelly. “Soo, you gotta try it. It’s cool!” 

“I’ll pass,” Kyungsoo says, and he lays back down onto the turf, shutting his eyes. “You guys have fun.” 

“We _will_ ,” Junmyeon says, and he passes Sehun another shot. “Come on. Let's get some synesthesia in us.” 

They goof around for the rest of the evening, and Sehun doesn’t return to his cabin until the early morning light begins to break all around them. Junmyeon throws his arm around Sehun’s waist as they walk back towards their building, and Sehun supposes it is some of the residual oxytocin filtering in. He enjoys it, likes the feeling of Junmyeon’s weight, doesn’t mind Kyungsoo staring holes into his back.  
  


♄

Sehun wakes the next morning at the same time, steps into the shower machine the same as always. Today, though, he is a champion. He came back from a mission. And that means he is one step closer to the Black suit. That he is one step closer to making it out of this place alive.

He goes through his motions easily, practiced and sure, but when he goes to his locker, he sees something new. A new jumpsuit. A shade darker. He grins when he steps into it, zips it up. He looks at himself in the mirror, smoothes his hands down the sides of the suit, eyes stuck to the insignia at his chest. He looks handsome, he thinks. The darker the suit, the better he looks. 

Satisfied, he grabs his bag, about to shut the door, but on the top shelf of the locker, he finds his old jumpsuit, folded pristinely. He’s kept all of them, keeps them in the storage compartment under his bed. He takes this one too, alarmed to find that it makes a crinkling sound. 

Sehun sets his bag down as the rest of the agents move around him, and when he unfolds the old jumpsuit, he reaches into the pocket, he finds the scrap of paper. The paper he took from the library. He’d nearly forgotten. He folds the paper up neatly, puts it into his new dark grey jumpsuit, and then, he makes his way back to the cabin. 

He sits on his bed, and he taps furiously on his bracer, queuing up the language scanner. It shines blue over the text, and Sehun waits for it to process the visual information into data. He stares at his bracer, watches the calculations as he waits for the translation, but unfortunately, it beeps in error. He squints, reruns the scan, but it comes to the same result. The annoying beeping error noise. 

Sehun stares down at the text, the dry ink, the torn edges, and he wonders what it says. Whether it’s a story of love or hate. Maybe it’s neither. Maybe it’s something in between. 

It’s then that his bracer lights up with communication. He smiles at it, thinking he’ll see Kyungsoo’s number attached to the message. 

Instead, he finds Junmyeon asking him about First. 

_I’ll be there, as per usual_ , he writes, wondering if Junmyeon will laugh. 

_Kyungsoo’s sleeping in_ , Junmyeon writes back. _See you there._

Sehun lies on his bed until it’s time for First. Kyungsoo rarely sleeps in. It’s not normal for him. Maybe Sehun should check on him. See if he’s feeling okay. He took a nasty hit, and sometimes the medmachs are funny about brain traumas. 

Quickly, he types out a message, and he shuts his eyes as he waits for a response that never comes. He gets the buzzing alarm for First, and he taps his bracer, checks the delivery confirmation. The message remains unread, and instead of doing something rational, he slides to the triad section on his bracer. He taps on Kyungsoo’s number, and he watches his heartbeat monitor. Slow, but rising. 55. He must be sleeping still. 

Sehun groans, gets up, and makes his way to the cafeteria.  
  


♄

Even as he’s on his way, he can’t stop thinking about the error message from the language scan. It is highly unusual. The Agency has access to every language known to the universe, and the scan is capable of translating anything. Why, then, does the error message still appear?

Sehun unfolds the paper in his lap under the table. It is heavily damaged around the edges. His fingers trace over the lines of the text. What kind of mysteries does a simple page hold? The symbols are handwritten, beautiful, and he wants to know what it says. He’s becoming… obsessed. 

“What’s with you?” 

The sound of Junmyeon’s voice jars Sehun out of thought. He folds the paper up, sticks it back in his pocket. 

“What?” 

“You look… perturbed,” Junmyeon says, and he sets his tray down across from Sehun’s, sits down at the table. 

“I’m not perturbed.” Sehun stabs his straw into his shake and takes a sip. “I’ve never been perturbed.” 

“Well, that’s _definitely_ not the case,” Junmyeon says, but his mouth is full of food, and the sounds come out all muffled. “You wanna talk about it?” 

“I do not,” Sehun says. 

“You do.” 

“I do not.” 

“Eventually,” Junmyeon says sagely, like he is wise enough to know the secrets of the universe, “eventually you will wanna talk about it.” 

“Keep telling yourself that,” Sehun says. 

“I will.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, but Junmyeon’s smile, perfect upon perfect, makes him smile back.  
  


♄

It doesn’t leave him. The writing. The language. The book. It all sticks in his head, adhered to the sides of his brain. He has so much free time now that they’re resting, now that they’re not assigned to a mission. There is no deployment on his schedule, his leg is fine, and this thing won’t leave him alone. He thinks about it all day long, carries the paper with him wherever he goes. He has to do something. He needs to.

He decides to go to the one person he can trust above all others. 

Kyungsoo is in the library, and it is relatively busy in the middle of the day. Agents are buzzing back and forth, eager for tests and for deployments. Sehun sees Kyungsoo in a cluster of seats. He pats his pocket before he walks over, before he sits in the chair next to Kyungsoo, watching him until Kyungsoo can feel Sehun’s gaze on him. 

He turns, smiles at Sehun. “Hey.” He tilts his head. “What’s up? I thought you were busy with individual study.” 

“I-I was,” Sehun says, and he pulls out the scrap of paper from his pocket. “But I had something to talk to you about.” 

Kyungsoo’s brow goes straight, and he lowers his reader as he sits up in his seat. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“I… think so?” Sehun digs into his pocket, pulls out the wrinkled paper, and he spreads it open in front of Kyungsoo. “I just… I grabbed this before we found that book. And… I can’t figure it out, but for some reason, it feels… feels special.” 

Kyungsoo studies the letters, the language, and in the next moment, he takes it from Sehun’s hand. He folds it back in two, slips it back to Sehun. 

“Can you read it?” Sehun asks, opening it again and holding it over his lap. “I’ve never studied this language, and the scanner doesn’t pick it up.” He runs gloved fingertips over the scrap, the ink long dried. “That’s never happened before. It must be super rare.” 

“It is,” Kyungsoo says. “And that’s why we ought to stay away from this, Sehun. I’m telling you.” 

Sehun furrows his brow. Wants to follow where he leads. But something itches inside of him, tickling up against the walls of him. He needs to scratch that itch one way or another. 

“I just want to know a little bit more about the book we found,” Sehun says. “Is that so bad?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Kyungsoo argues. “People have… it’s been rumored that humans lose their minds when they see what’s inside, okay? This isn’t—” and he rubs his temples with his fingers, “this isn’t something to _mess_ with.” 

“Really?” 

“Don’t sound so excited,” Kyungsoo says, and he turns, going back to his reader. “Leave it to some other triad. Let someone else be assigned to it. It’s over our heads.” 

Sehun isn’t willing to let this go, wants at least a little bit of closure when it comes to something so special. So important. 

“What? Are you scared?” Sehun taunts. 

Kyungsoo barely raises his eyes from his text. 

“It’s a grimoire,” Kyungsoo says. “A book of shadows. Atrocities.” He looks into Sehun’s eyes, sending the fear of forever into him. “The worst things ever born or created.” 

He shouldn’t feel the bolt of excitement that jolts through him. He should stay far away from something so dangerous. And yet, it entices him. Calls his name with a voice that Sehun cannot ignore. 

“S-Shouldn’t we do something about it, then?” Kyungsoo does not look at him, so Sehun sits up in front of him. “Isn’t that our job? Protecting people from atrocities?” 

“It’s for someone else,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s not for us. We’ve done our part.” 

Sehun slumps in his seat, lays his head onto Kyungsoo’s shoulder. 

“Don’t pout,” Kyungsoo says lowly, and he flips the page with a careless finger over the screen. “You’re not cute when you pout.” 

“Yeah, I am,” Sehun mutters.

Sehun can hear Kyungsoo’s smile, and for the moment, it is enough.  
  


♄

For the next several weeks, Sehun throws himself into research over the paper with the curious script. Something about it, something about the _grimoire_ they found will not leave him alone. Something grips him. Takes hold inside of him.

With no deployment on the radar, he’s got plenty of time on his hands, and while they keep up with daily training, Sehun spends a lot of his free time in the library scanning databases, trying to find information since Kyungsoo will give him none. 

Junmyeon sometimes accompanies him, but he minds his own business and for that, Sehun is grateful. He didn’t want to tell anyone that he was doing research into the grimoire. He didn’t want it to be anything other than a secret meant for himself. 

Whether it is punishment for pursuing that which ought not be pursued or not, Sehun finds the results of his research pitiful. He makes a small noise of discontent as yet another thread of searching ends up with nothing, drier than a bone. 

“Need any help over there?” 

Sehun looks over, and Junmyeon has his elbow on the desk, his chin in his hand, smiling at Sehun. 

“I’m good,” Sehun says. 

“Still working on the Crystym, or…?” 

“I’ll get it,” Sehun says. “Shut up.” 

“You’re just doing a lot of sighing over there,” Junmyeon says. “So if I can be of any assistance, just let me know.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Sehun says, and he waves his hand. “Go back to… whatever it is you were doing before you were bothering me.” 

“Our struggle is sempiternal,” Junmyeon says, and he lies back in his chair, hands behind his head casually. “It is the way we were made. Me, to push, and you, to _be_ pushed.”  
  


♄

Kyungsoo notices his study because Kyungsoo notices everything about him. Kyungsoo picks up on the smallest details. Kyungsoo gives a shit about him. And Sehun feels a funny sort of guilt for keeping it a secret. For trying to hide it.

It’s just that… he can’t help himself. Can’t help himself or _won’t._ It’s all the same in the end, just different shades of grey. 

“You don’t have to work so hard, you know,” Kyungsoo says, and he rests his hand on Sehun’s shoulder. Sehun stares at it, the affection blatant and wonderful. “This is the time to rest. Before the next deployment.” 

“I just get bored,” Sehun says, and it’s a flimsy excuse, one that Kyungsoo can surely see right through. 

But Kyungsoo doesn’t pry and prick where he could. Where he normally would. He just smiles at Sehun, tugs him into a hug, side to side. Sehun stares up at the glass ceiling. It’s not like he’s gotten anywhere. He could tell Kyungsoo quickly. Admit that he was drawn by the forbidden. 

He thinks about confessing. Telling Kyungsoo everything. _I’ve loved you since the very first moment I saw you. I love everything you are, everything you’ll become, and everything in between. Pick me. Let me love you._

Sehun stays quiet, lets his training set in. Restrains himself and his desires as best he can.  
  


♄

More weeks pass, but Sehun keeps searching even though there is exceedingly little to go on. He cross-references, he delves deeply. He tries to look at languages, their alphabets, to see if he can at least recognize _that_ , but there is nothing like the circular yet angular script that rests in his hands. There is nothing even close to it, not in _any_ of the language encyclopedias.

Frustrated, Sehun looks over, sees Junmyeon asleep in his chair. He rolls his eyes, goes back to his screen, swiping through more information, ejecting a couple readers on language identification. 

Not that he even knows where the grimoire is now. 

Sehun wonders where they’re keeping it. Wonders if he could get another look. Get a picture. Just something to go off of, something to push the research past mindless, pointless scanning. Something to— 

“You’re so loud,” Junmyeon groans. 

“I didn’t even say anything,” Sehun says. “And if you want to sleep, go back to your cabin.” 

“I’m not sleeping.” He yawns, something out of an animated ent-option. “See? Wide awake.” 

Sehun snorts. 

“Sleep, if you want,” Sehun says. “I don’t care.” 

“Better than pouring myself into language research and getting nowhere fast,” Junmyeon says, and he reaches out, grabs a reader, and balances it on his forehead. “Not naming any names, of course.” 

A little bolt of fear, electric and sharp, jumps through Sehun. How did Junmyeon know what he was up to? Was he obvious about it? 

“Shut up,” Sehun says. 

“Just saying,” Junmyeon says, and he removes the reader from his forehead, cranes his neck to look at Sehun in the eye. “We could get more done together. And you never have to lie to me.” 

“It wasn’t a lie,” Sehun argues, and then his bravado falls a bit. “It was… avoiding the truth.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He smiles at Sehun. “Go on. Look up Aquati or whatever you were doing before. It’s got barbs, so you’re definitely super close.” 

Sehun bites his lip to stop from smiling, and he picks up his reader again.  
  


♄

In the middle of the night, Sehun wakes to the feeling of buzzing against his wrist.

Junmyeon has sent a message before the lights have even risen, and Sehun’s eyes squint angrily at his bracer where it rests on his arm. 

_I have something to tell you._

Sehun’s stomach flips inside his body at the words, and he looks around to his cabinmates. They are still fast asleep, and for good reason; Sehun checks the time. Zero three hundred hours. What couldn’t wait until morning? Something terrible must have happened. Terrible or amazing. 

Sehun quickly navigates to the messenger, responds accordingly. _What?_

It doesn’t take long for Junmyeon to answer. 

_Come outside._

Sehun lays his head back against his pillow, groans softly towards the ceiling before pushing himself up out of his bed, slipping into his shoes, and silently slipping through the doors of the cabin. 

Junmyeon greets him with a weak, sleepy smile, and Sehun does not return it. 

“What?” Sehun whispers. “What couldn’t wait until morning?” 

“I know you’ve been looking into the book,” Junmyeon says. “And so I wanted to be upfront with you about this.” 

Sehun gives Junmyeon a once over even as he knows what Junmyeon is about to tell him. 

“Upfront about what?” 

“I opened it.” 

“You _what_? You _opened it_?” 

“Hush,” Junmyeon smiles. “You’ll wake everyone up.” 

“ _How could you_?” 

“Well, put yourself in my shoes,” Junmyeon says. “It is extremely tempting.” 

“I don’t have to put myself in your shoes. I am _in_ your shoes,” Sehun says. “We’re in the same pair of shoes!” 

“Must be a pretty big pair of shoes,” Junmyeon smiles. 

“Oh, shut up,” Sehun groans. “What the fuck are we gonna do _now_? Kyungsoo is gonna have a fucking conniption.”

Junmyeon looks at Sehun the way he always does, like he is about to clue Sehun in on a secret, a stupid, ridiculous secret that Sehun wants no part in keeping. 

“We don’t have to tell him.” 

“Shut _up_ ,” Sehun says. “Of course we have to tell him.” 

“He’s not gonna wanna see what I found,” Junmyeon warns. “He’s not gonna like it.” 

“I sincerely doubt _I’m_ going to like it.” 

“Nah,” Junmyeon smirks, “you’ll like it.” 

A knife-edge of heat runs along Sehun’s jugular, chokes him as it bleeds him dry. He opens his mouth to challenge Junmyeon, but something keeps him quiet. Something makes him want to ask, _What did you find?_

“Show me,” Sehun says, and he tells himself that once he knows, he’ll figure out the best way to deal with Junmyeon and his easy betrayals of trust.  
  


♄

Junmyeon leads him down the halls, dark before they enter and lit after they pass through, and Sehun stares at the line of Junmyeon’s shoulders as they descend into the bowels of the building, down into the chambers that Sehun doesn’t usually bother with.

“Why are they keeping it here?” Sehun asks. 

“Too powerful,” Junmyeon says. “And also, keep your voice down.” 

“Why?” 

“Prying eyes,” Junmyeon says, looking back over his shoulder with a grin. “Listening ears.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes as they keep moving, passing by door after door, label after label. He lets Junmyeon drag him down, lets him lead, and Sehun’s teeth start to hurt like he’s chewing on foil. This is bad. He knows this is bad. He knows they’re doing something stupid. He knows that he shouldn’t be here, doing this. He could be reporting back to Kyungsoo. He could report to a superior. A director, even. And yet… 

“Just through here,” Junmyeon says, and he presses his thumb against the scanner of the door until the room opens to them. “Cool.” 

“Why are you allowed in?” Sehun asks, and he stares at the sliding door, revealing more darkness, a crazy, creeping cold. “S-Shouldn’t this—”

“Hacked it,” Junmyeon says easily. 

“ _What are you saying?_ ”

“Well, if they didn’t want me to use the NOP sled, then they shouldn’t have taught me how,” Junmyeon argues, and he nods towards the room. “Go on. Go in.” 

Sehun cautiously steps across the threshold, and the chill that climbs up his spine is near overwhelming. 

“Insane, right?” Junmyeon whispers, and the light overhead toggles on, revealing all. 

It is a small room, confined quarters, and there is nothing on the walls, clean white and sterile. He looks around as the door shuts behind them, and Junmyeon is at his back, nudging him forwards. 

Dead center, there is a glass pedestal, and the tome is resting upon it. Sehun stares at it, wonders if it always looked so grim. 

“Take a look,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun takes another step forward, staring at the book. 

A pulsing of dark energy floods through him, and he wonders what kind of evil this truly holds. What kind of chaos, frenetic and terrible. He shakes his head as it surges through him. He shouldn’t have come here. They shouldn’t be doing this. He turns, and there is a mischievous light in Junmyeon’s eyes, like they are still in their learning programs, breaking rules together before the teachers caught them. 

“Isn’t it kind of amazing?” Junmyeon says. “Don’t you feel… I don’t know, like, more powerful?” 

He does, but he won’t ever admit it. 

“No,” Sehun says. “This was a bad idea. We should have listened to Kyungsoo. We shouldn’t have fucked with this.” 

“Too late,” Junmyeon smiles. “What’s done is done.” 

Sehun wants to hit him, wants to kick him out of the triad, but in some terrible way, Junmyeon is pushing them forward. Challenging them. Making them reach for more. Making them admit something they never wanted to admit. 

“I can’t believe you,” Sehun makes himself say. 

“Ah, yes, you can.” Junmyeon steps closer, looks into Sehun’s eyes. “You knew I was gonna open it. And in your heart of hearts, you knew you wanted to look.” 

Sehun’s stomach sinks, a plummeting feeling inside his body, and he struggles to find an argument, fingers clutching at nothingness. 

“Y-Yeah, but I… that’s part of the draw of it,” Sehun says. “Kyungsoo said. There’s a—” 

“A thrall,” Junmyeon supplies. “And now it doesn’t have any power over us anymore. We know what’s inside.” 

“I don’t,” Sehun says. “I haven’t looked.”

“No, you haven’t looked yet,” Junmyeon says, “but you’re about to.” 

He wants to argue. Wants to fight. But he needs to know. It’s eating him up inside. 

Sehun frowns, a wrinkle in his brow, and he steps closer to the glass pedestal. As he reaches out, he realizes that he is playing into Junmyeon’s hand, going along with something he knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t seem to stop his movement. Can’t seem to shut it down. 

When his hand brushes against the leather, a shock zips through him like a rumbling wave. He breathes through it, opens up the cover, and he feels it take hold of him with a frightening immediacy. Some darkness. Some danger for which he doesn’t have a name. He looks back at Junmyeon, terrified by the wave that overcomes him. 

“Do you feel it?” Junmyeon asks. “He wasn’t lying. There’s something here.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says. “I feel it.” 

And then, he turns past the first page, sees swirling text written in blood red ink, practically bleeding down the page. A swelling wave of guilt and fear overtakes him, and he is drowning in it. Drowning. 

“I… I can’t read it,” Sehun stutters, and he touches the fragile page with his fingertips. In awe. With dread. 

“I translated it,” Junmyeon says. “Do you wanna know what it says?” 

Sehun turns away from the book, stares at Junmyeon, wondering what they’ve done to get to this place. 

“Yes,” he admits. “What does it say?” 

“When the book is opened, the horrors within will pour out into the galaxy, and with them, they bring death, destruction, and chaos. This and one thing more. The end of space and time,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun’s hands immediately begin to tremble with tearful, horrified energy. “But look at the first page.” 

“I don’t want to,” Sehun says, and his voice cracks, his mouth so dry. “I’m—”

“Just look,” Junmyeon says. “Trust me.” 

_How can I?_ , he thinks. _Now that you’ve done this?_

Sehun spins, slow, terrified, and he opens the book once more, thumbing through the pages, the warning, the scrawl that means nothing to him. And then, there on the very first page… a word he cannot understand, a rendering that is as awful as it is familiar. 

With her blood red eyes, her storms… the Night Mare. 

“You know what that means, right?” Sehun turns again, the shivering waves of darkness siphoning his blood, leaving him cold and empty. Junmyeon is staring at him, and Sehun can’t tell whether it is fear or excitement in his eyes. “Someone found it before we did.” 

Sehun’s mouth falls open as he imagines the horrors to come. His heartbeat thumps in his neck, and he is lost. He is lost, and all he wants is to be found. 

“We have to tell Kyungsoo,” Sehun says, and the tears fall down his face. “We have to tell him.” 

Junmyeon looks at him for a moment, and Sehun brushes the wetness away. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon agrees, and he steps forward, pulling Sehun into an embrace. “Yeah, let’s go tell him.”


	3. Chapter 3

He calls an emergency meeting of the triad deep in the dead of the night. He watches as Kyungsoo moves, his brow furrowed darkly, a hand at his mouth. Sehun sits, cross-legged, and Junmyeon follows Kyungsoo, the sounds of their footsteps swallowed up.

“This is bad,” Kyungsoo says, and he paces the room. “This is _bad._ ” 

“I know,” Junmyeon says, and he reaches out to try to cap Kyungsoo on the shoulder. “Listen, I know.” 

“No, you don’t get it,” Kyungsoo says, and he walks through the practice room, the padded floor soft under his feet. “This is serious. This is a real fucking problem. This is… I mean, this could be the end of the fucking universe.” 

“We’re well aware of the gravity of the situation… which is why we’ve adjusted our bracers accordingly.” Kyungsoo stares at him blankly, so Junmyeon turns to Sehun with a delighted smile, one that Sehun rolls his eyes at. “What? I thought it was funny.” 

“You both could have been seriously injured,” Kyungsoo says. “You could have died. You could have gone mad with fear.” 

“Who knows? Maybe we are,” Junmyeon smiles. “Mad. With fear or otherwise.” 

“This isn’t a joke,” Kyungsoo argues. He turns to Sehun. “I sort of expected this from him, but from you?” 

Sehun’s stomach sinks as he stares down at his hands, knitted together. 

“Sorry,” he says weakly. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Junmyeon says. “Sorry we discovered a huge fucking case.” 

“I’m being _serious_ ,” Kyungsoo says. “This is dangerous shit here.” 

“I know,” Junmyeon says, placating. “But look at it this way, we’ve just stumbled onto something massive here. Something that would have existed whether we looked or not.” He waves his arms excitedly. “There’s a mystery afoot!” Junmyeon whips around, stares at Sehun. “Sehun loves mysteries.” 

“No, I don’t,” Sehun argues. 

“Yes, you do,” Junmyeon argues back. 

“ _No_ , I _don’t_.” 

“ _Yes_ , you _do_.” 

“Enough of this stupidity,” Kyungsoo says, and he huffs through a breath. “I guess it doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done.” 

“Hey, that’s what I said,” Junmyeon says.

“Shush,” Kyungsoo says. “We have to report this.” 

“To the directors?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Who else?” 

“I dunno,” Junmyeon says, and he scuffs the tip of his boot along the floor. “I thought—” 

“We have to make them aware,” Kyungsoo says. “It would be irresponsible. This is a major threat. They should have… they should have everyone working on this, don’t you think?” 

Junmyeon frowns. “Yeah, I guess.” He scuffs his boot heel against the floor. “Fine, whatever.” 

Kyungsoo nods, bites his lip, and Sehun looks between them, goes back and forth. 

“Are you okay with this?” Junmyeon asks. “Filling them in?” 

“What other option do we have?” Sehun asks. “It seems…” and he looks to Kyungsoo, sees an encouraging nod, “seems like it’s our only real option.” 

Junmyeon scoffs, but he smiles. 

“You two,” he says, pointing at Kyungsoo and then Sehun. “Two boring peas in a boring pod.” 

“Safe,” Kyungsoo says. “By the books.” He smirks at Junmyeon. “Mr. Black suit.” 

“Oh, don’t call me that,” Junmyeon says, the back of his hand dramatically braced against his forehead. “Mr. Black suit was my father.”  
  


♄

  
  
It is rare for a triad to meet with the board _as_ a triad. At least, it seems that way to Sehun. He’s never seen or heard of it before now, certainly never experienced it prior to this moment. But here they are, the three of them, sitting in their chairs, two that look to have been moved into the meeting room. They stare at the black screens, blue wavelengths of the voices dancing as they speak. 

“The universe as we know it is in grave danger,” the director, a man with a deep voice, begins. “And while normally we would know our position when faced with _blatant_ insubordination and trespassing—” and Sehun looks to Junmyeon, sees a little smile curve onto his face, “the information you’ve given us has changed matters quite a bit. We, as a board, have been forced to reconsider our position.” 

Junmyeon leans forward, presses onto his mic before speaking. 

“Thank you,” he offers, and then he leans back in his seat again, hands on his lap. 

“We’ve taken the liberty of scouring the text, formally known as the Necronomicon,” another director says, the voice high and pretty. “And the atrocities therein have the power to destroy everything.” 

Sehun’s heart is in his mouth as he listens to them, wondering where they go from here. If they aren’t being reprimanded, if they aren’t being punished, then what is their role in all this? 

It should be obvious to him by now. The case is being assigned to them and them alone. Permanently. Succeed in saving the world, or die trying. That’s their job, after all. He’s always known that. So then why, at that very moment, does it seem so terrifying? So absolutely gut-wrenching and cruel? 

“Briefing documents will be distributed tomorrow morning at zero six hundred hours and will be sent directly to your bracers. Aforementioned documents will also be accessible through readers as the information has been disseminated to each of your individual libraries,” a director says. “We’ve detailed each monstrosity with care, and while we understand that your triad would desire as much information and preparation as possible, please remember that time is of the essence.” 

“Understood,” Junmyeon says easily. 

“Understood,” Kyungsoo repeats. 

Sehun finds his voice slow and weak. 

“Understood,” he finally says, his finger on the button pressing so hard his nail goes white. 

“Good afternoon, agents,” the director says. “And as always, thank you for your service.” 

With that and nothing more, the thin blue lines fade into nothingness, and they are left alone, just the three of them against a world of total and complete evil. They sit there in silence for what feels like a small grey eternity, and Sehun shuts his eyes, dreams about what nightmares lurk in the shadows, waiting for their turn to strike. 

Quiet, quiet, quiet. It drips down the walls like blood, and Sehun feels the fear, the trembling fear of death creeping back into him. _It’s better like this_ , he tells himself. _Once upon a time, it didn’t scare you. Once upon a time, you wanted to welcome it in._

“Well,” Junmyeon says softly before patting his legs, “guess it’s back to the old grind, huh, boys?” 

Sehun looks at him, squints as he tries to figure out what’s wrong with Junmyeon. 

“What?” Junmyeon asks. “Not a good time?” 

“This is a death sentence,” Sehun says. “We barely made it off that planet in one piece. We almost died. And that was just _one_. Who knows how many monsters are in that book? It was huge.” 

“Take it as it comes,” Junmyeon says, and he folds his hands behind his head. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” 

Sehun breathes exasperatedly, looks to Kyungsoo for backup. 

“He’s right,” Kyungsoo says. “Even though he’s the one who got us into this mess—” 

“Hey.” 

“I’m inclined to agree with him,” Kyungsoo finishes. 

The words feel like a betrayal of sorts, and Sehun struggles to find his footing amongst all the jagged edges of the serrated blade. 

“W-Why?” Sehun stammers. “I mean, I’m right. We _did_ barely make it home. We _did_ almost die. What’s to say that doesn’t happen the next thing we face? Sooner or later, the odds are gonna stop being so fucking good.” 

“Worrying about things we can’t control is never a beneficial choice,” Kyungsoo advises, “for anyone involved.” 

Sehun frowns. 

“Don’t look so upset,” Junmyeon says. “Just think of it as… a new adventure.” 

Sehun wants to tell him so many things: _I’ve only just rediscovered my lust for life. I wanna stick around. I wanna get old. I don’t want to do this until I die. I don’t wanna be forgotten._

Sehun sighs, scrubs a hand over his face. 

“I know that sound,” Junmyeon says cheerily, and Sehun lowers his hand just quickly enough to watch as Junmyeon hops out of his chair, meanders over towards the sliding door. “ _That_ is the sound of a man defeated.” 

“Don’t sound so fuckin’ happy about it,” Sehun says. 

“You’re absolutely right. I shouldn’t,” Junmyeon says, smiling up a storm. “Our work is all about harnessing energy. Let me harness.” 

He holds his hands straight out in front of him, palms out, and he closes his eyes in Stance One. Sehun rolls his eyes as Junmyeon holds the pose for a moment and then a moment more before cracking, grinning wildly. 

“Come on, nerds,” he says eagerly. “They’ve got peach jelly shakes for First, and I don’t wanna have to hack the dispenser just because they decide to cut them off before noon.” 

Junmyeon passes through the sliding doors opposite the wall of screens, and both Kyungsoo and Sehun watch him go, whistling a tune that echoes back through the room before the doors slide shut behind him, leaving the two of them blessedly alone. 

“H-He’s crazy,” Sehun says. 

“Hey, you’re the one who followed him so blindly,” Kyungsoo says, and he gets up, walks over to Sehun before he smiles down at where Sehun is still sitting. “What’s with that, huh? You’re not normally so…”

“Reckless?” Sehun smiles. 

“Okay, fair point,” Kyungsoo says. “You do have a tendency to be impulsive.” Sehun lowers his head. “But with him, ever since—” 

“I don’t know.” He looks up, looks into Kyungsoo’s eyes. “I dunno, I just…” 

“You feel like you owe him something?” 

Sehun’s heart hurts in his chest. 

“It’s our job,” Kyungsoo says. “He was bound by honor _and by contract_ to save your life.” He folds his arms across his chest. “If he hadn’t done everything he could to save us, he would have been tried.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun sighs. “I know.” 

“Don’t feel like you have to… make it up to him or something,” Kyungsoo says, and his dark brow knits. “You don’t owe him anything. We’re a triad. This is our life, and we live it for each other.” 

Sehun grapples with the idea for a moment. Why _did_ he follow Junmyeon so easily? With such haste? Is Kyungsoo right? Is it because he feels some indebtedness towards him? Or is it… is it something less noble? Is it simply because Junmyeon has wormed his way into Sehun’s life and made Sehun trust him? 

“Yeah,” Sehun finally agrees. “For each other.” 

Kyungsoo smiles down at him, offers him a hand. 

“Come on,” he says, and he pulls Sehun to his feet. “We’ve got a lot of research to get to, and you heard the directors.” He puts on a stern voice, full of discernment. “ _Time is of the essence._ ”  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun wakes the next morning with a weight on his chest, and after he’s made it back to his cabin, freshly showered, he gets the notification on his bracer. 

He sits on his bed, types a quick message to Kyungsoo. 

_Are you going to read it?_

His response comes synapse quick. 

_Yes_ , he writes. _Let’s read and meet after First._

Sehun sends his affirmative before hurriedly swiping over to the information, a dense file that has to be downloaded for a moment before the text pops up, and he taps through to read it. 

**Contents of the Necronomicon, as recorded by The Agency, 2625**

**At the beginning of everything, when the universe was both nothing and the opposite of nothing simultaneously, seven monstrous creations were born from the coupling of a black hole and an antimatter black hole. The explosion of energy was so great, so terrible, so bright and horrific. These primordial creatures, Gods of the Etherless Void, so named the Devastations, stretched their limbs of smoke and bone and deep emptiness, and they ran from the light of the stars. These children of darkness spread and slipped between currents and atoms, hid under clouds that formed from the storm of power that surged in the sudden sky. Since then, the world has never known true peace. We are born, and we live and die in a world so dense and dark that nothing could ever survive in the cold. Only once the seven Devastations are laid to rest, only once they have been vanquished, only then can the world grow in beauty and love.**

Sehun breathes in deeply, fills his chest as far as it will allow, and then holds it in, closing his eyes. It is, in no uncertain terms, the beginning of their end. There is no way they will make it out alive. The Devastations are Gods, and sure, they got one, but they got _lucky_. There will be no more of that. Their luck has undoubtedly run out. 

He falls back to the bed, opens his eyes, and stares at the ceiling of the cabin, tracing imaginary lines with his gaze. Even if they die, it is the way he was meant to go. If there is even a chance at the world becoming a better place, then it would behoove him to take it. If there isn’t a dream for a better tomorrow, then what is the point of today? 

And still, there is a chance. A percentage so small he probably couldn’t see it with his naked eye, but a slim little number hidden behind so many zeroes. It is an addicting thought, possibility. He latches onto it, lazes in it. They could do it. They could win. 

He thinks of Kyungsoo and he, together, after everything. He thinks of what they could have. A home. A family. He knows planets where they could go, markets thick with life, worlds ripe with verdant earth. A place for the two of them, far away from strife. A simple life for them full of laughter and all the good things the universe still has to offer. Something pretty. Something golden. They could build the beauty and love from the ground up, and they could fill a multiverse with it. 

There… there would be birds, he just knows it. They would hear the singing of birds. 

It’s a silly dream, he knows, but it is the possibility that he clings to, the dream of tomorrow that makes today seem worth it. 

Sehun sits back up, and he studies up. They’re not going down without a fucking fight.  
  


♄

  
  
He takes so long with the briefing that he makes it to First late, but after several messages from Kyungsoo, he finally manages to stumble in just as the fresh offerings are about to be sent away. He loads his tray with as much as he can grab, and the cafeteria is empty save for the three of them. Junmyeon sits across from him in his black suit, picking his teeth. Kyungsoo sits at his side, his body warm against Sehun’s, a pleasant and familiar weight. 

“So,” Junmyeon says casually, “what’d you guys think of the reading material? Pretty dull, don’t you think?” 

Sehun rolls his eyes as he jams a straw through the carton, and he begins to drink his shake. 

“It certainly was a lot,” Kyungsoo says, and he pushes against Sehun. “I didn’t think it would take you so long. You’re a quick reader.” 

“He’s scared,” Junmyeon says. “Had a mental breakdown or seven, I bet.” 

“Ha, ha,” Sehun says, and he balls up a bit of his napkin, flicks it over at Junmyeon. “Very funny.” 

“Am I wrong? Did I lie?” he asks, and he flicks the napkin back over to Sehun like a little game. 

Sehun goes quiet, and Junmyeon starts to giggle uncontrollably. Sehun kicks him under the table in the shin, making Junmyeon yelp in pain, and for that moment, Sehun is quite proud of himself. 

“You both are _children_ ,” Kyungsoo chastises, and he gestures to Sehun’s tray. “Hurry up and eat. We’ve got things to do today, all right?” 

“Yeah, finally,” Junmyeon says. “We’ve been resting for, what? Two months? That’s practically unheard of for Kyungsoo.” 

“That’s enough out of you,” Kyungsoo says. “Or else.” 

Junmyeon wiggles his fingers with a little _Ooh_ , and it makes Kyungsoo smile. Sehun still sort of hates him, but in the bigger part of him, the louder part, he loves him. Loves what this triad is becoming.  
  


♄

  
  
The walk to the room is quiet, so quiet that all Sehun can hear is the sound of their footsteps, in time with one another. He holds his hands behind his back, same as Kyungsoo, and he blames that on their training. _Careful of body, careful of mind._

Junmyeon’s hands swing beside him wildly, chaotically as they walk, and Sehun watches him as he moves. He is the very antithesis of everything the Agency taught them, and yet he is dynamic, tenacious, smart… everything the Agency wants them to be. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun looks forward, ignores him for the rest of the walk and the journey up the lifter. 

Their reader room is familiar and homey now. What was once sterile and impersonal now drips of them, their presence. Junmyeon keeps a collection of souvenirs that he calls _clues_ along the long table pushed up against the wall. Kyungsoo rarely takes his pack of readers out of the room, keeps them here instead. They’ve all claimed chairs, and they know by now that taking one that does not belong to you results in a small argument. The touch screens along the white wall are scribbled with old information, old reminders, and when they walk in, Kyungsoo waves his hand, and the screens go clean. A new beginning. 

“All right,” Kyungsoo says, and he claps his hands together. “Let’s go over what we know.” 

Junmyeon flops into his seat, kicks his legs up onto the hassock, resting his hands behind his head. 

“After the Night Mare, I’m assuming?” he asks. 

“Well, yes, obviously,” Kyungsoo says, and he tosses a marker over at him. 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says, and from his seat, he draws on the air, makes the words appear across the room on the screen. “Entity Two. Known as Levi.” 

“Class?” Kyungsoo quizzes. 

“Aquatic,” Junmyeon says, “which should give us a pretty good head start on where to go.” He looks at Sehun. “I mean, it’s not like it can go to a planet where the atmosphere can’t stabilize water.” 

Kyungsoo is quick to write notes down, and Sehun’s gaze tracks it. _Location contingent on atmosphere composition._

“What else do we have?” Kyungsoo says, hands busy as he scrawls _Water dependent._

“Tentacles,” Junmyeon says. “Maw. General horrors.” 

“Weaknesses?” 

“Unknown,” Sehun answers. 

“The spice of life,” Junmyeon comments, and when Sehun glances over at him, he is twirling his pen between his fingers. 

“Three,” Kyungsoo begins. “Name?” 

“Pale Death,” Sehun answers. 

“Class?” 

“Diseasara,” Junmyeon says. 

“Subclass?” 

“Smoke,” Junmyeon answers. “Presents as white clouds.” 

“Any word on location?” 

“None,” Junmyeon supplies. “God, this is fucking infuriating.” 

“Four,” Kyungsoo lists, and he scribbles the title, _the Swarm._. “Class?” 

“Budded,” Junmyeon answers. “Intelligent, as far as we know.” 

“And consuming,” Sehun adds, and he shudders to think about it. 

In his reading, the Swarm was easily his least favorite as it was easily the most detailed. The Swarm lives on the planet Vimolod, deep within the jungle, and it’s able to absorb the genetic material, injecting it and twisting it with its own. He didn’t like the sound of that, something so smart and so capable of growth. Kyungsoo writes the notes down as Junmyeon rattles them off from memory, and Sehun becomes momentarily disenchanted by the task before them. They’ve almost nothing to go on for any of them. What are they supposed to do? _Where_ are they supposed to go? 

“Five,” Kyungsoo says. “Nameless. Class?” 

“Human-adjacent,” Sehun answers, and Kyungsoo scribbles that down. 

“Location?” 

“Unknown,” Junmyeon asks. “I love a good mystery.” 

“We know,” Kyungsoo says, a little smirk on his face. “Physical description?” 

“Red. And it’s giant,” Junmyeon answers, and he writes through the air, the words zipping through the air. “Why do they all have to be giant?” 

“They’re Gods,” Sehun says, shaking his head. “What? Do you want them to be protozoa?” 

“That would certainly make things interesting. I mean, how would we even fight those things?” 

“Focus,” Kyungsoo says, his voice a knife through the room. “What else do we have?” 

“Just the color red,” Junmyeon says. “Short on details, this one.” 

“We’ll circle back,” Kyungsoo says, and he circles the word _red_ on the board. “Entity Six.” 

“Dreameaters,” Sehun supplies, and he frowns at the name. It doesn’t sound very good. 

“Class?” 

“Skaters,” Junmyeon says, and he gives a comical little shiver. “I hate skaters.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t like the way they… hover,” Junmyeon grimaces. “It’s creepy.” 

“Haven’t you spent years doing this stuff?” Sehun asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Once you stop finding the horror in everyday, run-of-the-mill God-like monstrosities that could potentially explode the universe,” Junmyeon nods sagely, “that’s when all is lost.” 

“Location?” Kyungsoo interrupts. 

“Unknown,” Sehun answers. 

“Why is it that there’s so much more that we _don’t_ know than we _do_ know?” Kyungsoo sighs. 

“No fun in knowing shit,” Junmyeon says, and he kicks his feet off the ottoman, standing with a great stretch. “Now, _finding_ shit. That’s the real kicker.” 

“Yes, we know,” Kyungsoo says, rolling his eyes. “You love this stuff. Entity Seven?” 

“No information whatsoever except for an incredibly cryptic message that was wrapped in a foreign language,” Junmyeon says, and he raises his arm above his head, taps at his bracer. “ _Loyalty, duty, honor, and bravery._ Like, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“No clue,” Kyungsoo says, shaking his head, but he writes the items on the board anyway in a bulleted list. “God, this is… this is a mess.” 

“Don’t sound so dejected!” Junmyeon cheers. “This will be fun!” 

“Fun,” Sehun says. “ _Fun._ ” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon smiles. “Fun!” 

“What’s fun about this?” 

“We have so many questions that need to be answered! Who wrote the Necronomicon? Who opened it? Why did they open it? Where are the Devastations? What havoc are they wreaking as we speak? One down, _six to go_ ,” Junmyeon says, and he claps his hands together happily. “Let’s get a move on, gentlemen. Daddy’s got a _mystery_ to solve.”  
  


♄

  
  
Over the next week, they each throw themselves into one Devastation. 

“I call the Dreameaters!” Junmyeon says excitedly, and he rips his readers from his bag, begins to scan through them. 

“I thought you hated skaters,” Sehun says, frowning at him. 

“I do, which is why I wanna gut these motherfuckers,” Junmyeon says, and he starts flipping his finger across the reader furiously. “Now shut up, I’m trying to read.” 

Sehun hides a smile as he scans recent texts and reports for the words _pale death_ , but nothing appears. He struggles for a foothold, and the days pass slowly as they wait for news of their destruction. 

“I feel like this is a waste of time,” Sehun mutters, his nose practically against the screen of his reader as his eyes glaze over. He lowers it sharply. “We’re sitting around waiting for something to happen.” 

“We don’t know where to go,” Kyungsoo says. “We don’t know where they are.” 

“We know where _one_ is,” Sehun says. 

“Which is why I’m looking into the best ways to defeat the Swarm before it becomes the planet itself,” Kyungsoo bites. “Should I focus on something else?” 

Sehun lowers his head, scolded. 

“No,” Sehun says. 

“Maybe we should all focus on the Swarm, then,” Junmyeon suggests. “Target our efforts.” 

“No,” Kyungsoo says, and he looks to Sehun. “I got this. I promise. I got this.” Junmyeon sighs, loud and long, but Sehun nods at Kyungsoo. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, we trust you.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Junmyeon mutters, and he turns to Sehun, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Listen, aren’t you tired of reading the same book about the spread of these things? _Wash your hands. Carry a purification system with you._ This is not some run-of-the-mill atrocity, reader! This is serious business.” 

Sehun lets a little snort escape him, and Junmyeon smiles brightly because of it. The morning seems a bit easier after that, less tense, the room less claustrophobic.  
  


♄

  
  
He can’t pinpoint exactly when the Necronomicon was opened, but it must have been recently. 

“If there were more accounts,” Sehun says, shaking his head, “then… then we’d have more to go on. And if there were more accounts, then it would have been opened a long time ago. But at the same time, if it was opened a long time ago, then we’d… well, we’d probably be dead by now.” 

“Maybe we should be focusing more on the activity scanners,” Junmyeon says, hands covering his eyes. “Violence as it happens.” Sehun looks at him, studies him. He must feel Sehun’s eyes on him because he slowly lowers his hands. “What?” 

“That’s smart,” Sehun says. “I think.” He turns to Kyungsoo. “What do you think?” 

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

And for the next couple of days, they watch the activity scanners like hawks. Kyungsoo files for reports to be sent to their bracers, so even when they’re not around, they get notifications for the frenetic bursts of energy synonymous with violence. Junmyeon pushes his chair up to the big map, watching the red rupture over the galaxy. Sehun’s never seen it like this before, never seen the way the universe bleeds. It reinforces what he already knew: this is necessary work that the Agency does. _He_ is necessary.

Junmyeon blows over the cup of tea in his hand, waving Sehun forward. 

“Come watch with me,” Junmyeon orders. 

Sehun looks over. Kyungsoo has his nose buried in a reader, frantically scribbling on a pad. It’s never good to interrupt when he’s like that, in the flow. Sehun grabs his chair, pushes it up over next to Junmyeon’s. 

“Wanna see something crazy?” Junmyeon asks, and he doesn’t even wait for Sehun’s answer. 

At the bottom of the map, there is a toggle, and Junmyeon slides it backwards. Sehun watches as time unwinds, as the world moves backwards, and the bursts of red sprout from nothing. Quickly, quickly. 

And then, suddenly, there is an explosion. The world goes dark with red for a split second, and Junmyeon stops, hovers over that moment. It is a wall of color. He’s never seen anything like it. He’s never… he’s never seen anything so _total_. 

“Holy shit,” Sehun breathes. 

“Know what that was?” Junmyeon asks, and Sehun looks over at him, sees him smiling. “You almost dying.” Sehun swallows thickly as he turns back, eyes glazing over at the blood red screen, drenched and full. “Something about you…” 

Sehun looks over at Junmyeon, and he finds that Junmyeon is still staring at him, eyes still stuck on Sehun. 

“What?” 

“I dunno,” Junmyeon smiles. “Just something about you is special.” 

Sehun scowls as he grabs the toggle from Junmyeon’s hands, continues to move it backwards. 

“I’m not special,” Sehun says. “None of us are.” 

“You listened well in your classes,” Junmyeon says, but it doesn’t sound the way it should, like praise. 

“I did.” 

“They fucked you up a little, huh?” 

Sehun pushes the toggle back as far as he can manage, doesn’t see another burst of energy like that. 

“I guess,” Sehun says. “I don’t know.” 

There is more quiet, and Junmyeon presses the button at the base of the screen, ejects a little card. 

“Here,” Junmyeon says, offering Sehun another to insert. “This will look a bit farther back.” 

Sehun makes to take it, but Junmyeon hangs onto it, forcing Sehun to pull it. But he doesn’t let go. Sehun frowns at him. 

“Give it,” Sehun orders, and he stares at where their fingers are touching, his own white with effort, Junmyeon’s relaxed, like he’s not exerting any effort at all. 

“I will,” Junmyeon smiles, and he ducks his head, tries to look at Sehun in the eyes, “once you tell me you’re good.” 

“I’m good,” Sehun says, a knit in his brow. “Of course, I’m good.” 

Junmyeon looks back over his shoulder, and Sehun follows suit. Together, they look at Kyungsoo, still furiously writing on his pad. 

“’Kay.” He lets go, letting Sehun fall back a bit with the residual force. He gestures to the card, towards the slot. “Try a month prior. See if we get anywhere with that. I’d noticed a spike in atrocities. It’s gotta be related, right?”  
  


♄

  
  
Junmyeon has his legs kicked up over the arm of his chair, throwing a ball up into the air. Sehun watches him, strangely transfixed by the movement. Up. Down. Up. Down. The movement in his wrist is casual, just a snap, and the ball moves the exact same each time. Perfect. Sehun watches him, wondering. _Is that because he’s a Black suit? Is each movement so precise because he’s learned so much?_

“So, the Necronomicon has been opened long enough for there to be a considerable amount of information about the Night Mare, but no other major explosions of danger slash peril,” Junmyeon says, talking it out to himself. “What does this mean?” 

Sehun continues to stare blankly at him, watching the ball as it is tossed into the air, hits its apex, and then freefalls back down. 

“There are multiple explanations,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun’s eyes flick over to sudden movement. It is then he realizes that Junmyeon is dictating, the words being transcribed to the screen across the room. “Explanation one: the Night Mare was a myth turned reality. Local inhabitants wrote the story, and the Necronomicon brought the atrocity to life. The writings we found were merely morality plays. _Do not fuck with the devil because you will bring about the end of days._ That sort of thing.” 

The ball goes up, and the ball goes down. Sehun doesn’t say anything, just watches. 

“Explanation two,” he says, wrist snapping as the ball goes up, comes back down, “the book was opened long ago, and something has been occupying them. Some kind of force holding them back. Some first line of defense that’s only just recently broken.” 

Sehun bites his lip as he watches the ball go up. Watches the ball go down. 

“And three,” Junmyeon says, and he leans a little further back in his chair, lackadaisical as always. The ball goes up, and the ball goes down. Junmyeon snaps his head to the side, looks dead into Sehun’s eyes, “they’re biding their time.” 

Sehun feels spurred into speaking. 

“Who?” 

“Whoever is controlling them,” Junmyeon says. “Whoever controls the Devastations.” 

“Don’t they… control themselves?” Sehun asks, knitting his brow. 

“I suppose they could,” Junmyeon says, “but think about it. Don’t atrocities act on impulse? Wouldn’t they want to act _immediately_? And whoever opened the book and set them loose, whoever was able to harness their power, use it the way they wanted to… don’t they become the most powerful person in the fucking universe?” 

“W-Who could do something like that?” He shakes his head side to side, tries to make it all make sense. “Who is _capable_ of something like that?” 

“ _That’s_ what we have to find out,” Junmyeon smiles. 

Kyungsoo clears his throat, looks back over his shoulder from his desk. 

“Almost time for Third,” he says with a weak smile. “Maybe we’ll think more clearly tomorrow.” 

Junmyeon catches the ball one final time with a smile before chucking it over to Kyungsoo, making him react CPU fast. He raises his hand easily, the ball in his palm. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Junmyeon says, and he is slow to get up from his chair, the scribblings on the wall looking like the writings of a madman. He stretches, one great tense of his body, before sighing out, his shoulders rolling back as he smiles. “You guys coming?”

“I’m gonna hang back for a minute,” Kyungsoo smiles, and he turns in his chair, gestures to the mess they’ve made, piles of readers and empty shake bottles. “No worries, you two go on ahead.” 

“No,” Sehun says, and he looks at Kyungsoo, knows him well enough now to know that something is wrong, “no, I’ll help.” 

“‘Kay,” Junmyeon shrugs, “I’ll grab us a table or whatever.” 

He grabs his backpack, slings it over his shoulder, and exits room 33, the doors slipping open for him with a satisfying hushing noise, slipping shut once he’s left. 

Kyungsoo is wordless as he starts to file the readers into their compartments, the refuse thrown into the can. Sehun tracks him with his eyes, letting his gaze go fuzzy as Kyungsoo moves. 

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly. 

Kyungsoo moves like he’s alarmed, looking back at Sehun. 

“Y-Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I dunno,” Sehun says, and he picks up a reader off the floor. The display flickers on, reads _Hive Mind Atrocities and What We Can Do About Them_. “You seem… you don’t seem happy.” 

Kyungsoo smirks. “Don’t I?” 

“No,” Sehun mutters, and he looks down at his boots, “I’m sorry.” 

Sehun listens to the way Kyungsoo walks over to him, biting a little smile as Kyungsoo’s boots stop in front of his. He is gently directed into an embrace. 

“ _I’m_ sorry,” Kyungsoo whispers. “I got us into this mess. I was the one who pushed the retest. I’m the one—”

“No,” Sehun says. “No, I… I wanted to do this. We both wanted to.” He thinks back to the way he once felt. Eager to dispose of the Night Mare. Eager to avenge their friend. Eager to leave anyway he could. So much has changed, though he can’t say whether it’s for better or for worse. “We both wanted this. It’s okay.” 

A splitting, cracking quiet. 

“Do you regret it?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“No,” Sehun says, and he shuts his eyes, buries his face against Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Breathes in deeply. Kyungsoo smells no different than any of the rest of them, but that doesn’t matter. Sehun likes the way he smells more. “No, I don’t regret it.” 

“Me neither,” Kyungsoo says, and his arms tighten around Sehun’s body, make Sehun’s brain churn out just a little bit more of the happy chemicals that fizzle through him now. “But sometimes…” 

“W-What?” 

“Sometimes I feel like this was a mistake.” 

Sehun’s heart drops into the pit of his stomach. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Yeah, I know.” 

“But Junmyeon knows a lot,” Kyungsoo says. “He knows what he’s doing.” He pulls back, looks into Sehun’s eyes, looks right the fuck through him. “Right?” 

It puts little daggers of doubt into Sehun’s heart, cuts him apart. 

“He’s guessing,” Sehun says, and it sounds like an admittance of guilt. “I think he’s only guessing.” 

Kyungsoo shudders as he sighs, and Sehun holds him together, squeezes his arms around Kyungsoo’s body tighter. 

“There’s no way out now,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun can feel the fear in him, can feel it lining his flesh. “There’s just—we have to… we have to win.” 

“We will,” Sehun promises, if only just to have his selfish after, he and Kyungsoo wrapped up like this every day, every night, taking whatever they want from each other and giving back more, more.  
  


♄

  
  
Junmyeon takes him for a walk the following afternoon through the quad, and Sehun is confused. 

“What are we walking for?” Sehun asks. 

“It’s good for your cardiovascular health,” Junmyeon says, and he slaps the back of his hand against Sehun’s chest. “Plus, we needed to get out of there.” 

Sehun supposes that’s true. They do little else besides trying to find a lead, and slowly but surely, Sehun feels himself going stir-crazy. Even at First, Second, Third, all he does is think about the Devastations, the Pale Death. The way it spreads. The way they can protect themselves against it. He scribbles notes to himself on the table, sends them to the room through his bracer, things like _Remember to wear gloves. Moist, warm environment to facilitate its spread?_

“Yeah, I guess,” Sehun agrees. 

They walk in silence for a minute or two, and Sehun enjoys the bright warmth of midday stars on his skin. He pushes up the arms of his jumpsuit to match Junmyeon’s, and they keep a healthy distance between the two of them as they make a big loop around the perimeter of the turfed greens. 

“Things are going well, right?” Junmyeon asks, and it actually jars Sehun, makes him look. 

“Are they?” Sehun asks. 

“I was hoping they were.” Junmyeon nudges Sehun in his shoulder with a smile. “I mean, on the whole.” 

“We’re not getting anywhere. I don’t know how that could possibly be misconstrued as things _going well_.” 

“I just meant, like, the three of us,” Junmyeon says. “ _We’re_ doing good, right?” 

Sehun huffs. 

“What does it matter, anyway? The universe as we know it is on the line, and you’re thinking about… our compatibility? Our relationship strength? Our mental health?” 

“Yeah.” Junmyeon smiles. “I am.” 

Sehun looks back to the green, and he ignores the way his skin starts to itch, resists the overwhelming urge to scratch, to pull the sleeves of his jumpsuit back down. 

“You’re weird,” he mutters, and he scuffs the toe of his boot against the stiff, perfect grass. 

“I guess,” Junmyeon says, but he sings it like a song. 

They walk, and Sehun tries to unfold the tension in his shoulders. Junmyeon moves too close to him, doesn’t care about personal space, and Sehun can feel his warmth. 

“I thought we’d moved past this,” Junmyeon says quietly. 

“Past what?” 

“The whole… antagonism thing,” Junmyeon comments, and when Sehun looks, Junmyeon gestures between the two of them. “You and me.” 

“There isn’t any antagonism,” Sehun says. “Whatever antagonism you feel has been invented by an idle mind.” 

Junmyeon laughs, and it is a sound that Sehun is familiar with now. Junmyeon has a language all his own, a language of laughter, and Sehun’s learned that each different sound means something different. He studies this a bit too hard, he realizes belatedly, devotes a bit too much time listening to Junmyeon. Giving a shit about him. 

“I can’t figure it out,” Junmyeon says. 

“What?” 

“What your problem with me is,” he answers. “You just—”

“I don’t have a problem with you,” Sehun says. “I just—”

“You two have this thing,” Junmyeon interrupts, “this thing between you and Soo, and look, I’m not trying to get in the middle of it, but you have to realize that I’m _part_ of this whether you like it or not.” 

“There’s nothing between us,” Sehun says. “Me and him.” 

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious.” 

Junmyeon stops, and it makes Sehun stop just to stare back at him. It is an uncomfortable moment, and Sehun obliquely feels as though he should cover himself up somehow. He folds his arms across his chest, doesn’t back down, and eventually, Junmyeon sighs. 

“My point is that, sooner rather than later, we all have to be on the same page. And right now, it’s just… well, let me just say this. I’m not feeling like my voice is heard. Or appreciated.”

It is an uncharacteristically honest moment for Junmyeon, and perhaps for that reason, it sticks Sehun straight in the heart. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Sehun says. 

“I just hope we can… I don’t know. Move forward. Start figuring things out.” He looks back to the turf. “I know it’s frustrating, but to get anywhere, we have to start assuming some things.” 

Sehun sighs. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“We should be working on the Swarm together,” Junmyeon says. 

“Maybe, yeah.” 

Junmyeon looks up at Sehun, and his eyes look very pretty in the midday starlight. Sehun looks away, pulls the sleeves of his jumpsuit back down and holds them by the elastic cuffs. 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says, and he bumps his shoulder into Sehun’s, “good work today.” 

“We haven’t done anything,” Sehun mutters. “We walked half a kilometer.” 

“Better than a quarter kilometer.” He couples it with a messy smile, and Sehun resists the urge to scrub his hand through Junmyeon’s hair. “Come on. Let’s go talk through some more situations.” 

Sehun lets himself be led back to the reader room, and he watches the line of Junmyeon’s shoulders the entire way.  
  


♄

  
  
There are days of walking in circles, literal and metaphorical, and they don’t get very far with such little information. Junmyeon, over the course of these days, becomes convinced that they are missing something. Missing something big. 

Sehun doesn’t know what to think, especially not when they start fighting. 

“We need the text,” Junmyeon frowns. 

“We’ve got it,” Kyungsoo says. 

“This… this is a poor representation,” Junmyeon says, gesturing to the notes they’ve taken. And then he stares down at his empty hands. “That had… that had so much inside it. It couldn’t possibly have been boiled down to just… just three sheets.” 

“It was stuff none of us could read,” Kyungsoo says. “Things that couldn’t be translated by the system.” 

“Let me ask you this, then,” Junmyeon says, and he leans forward in his seat, folds his hands together in front of his mouth. “If the writing couldn’t be translated, then how do we have this information?” 

“T-There are specialists,” Kyungsoo says. “The Agency trains certain agents in lang—”

“Oh, bullshit,” Junmyeon snarks. “If the specialist is better than the system, then what’s the fucking point in a system in the first place?” 

“We’ve got plenty of information to go off of,” Kyungsoo says. “We’ve got a lot on The Swarm.” 

“And yet we haven’t begun combat training,” Junmyeon says, and he looks Kyungsoo up and down, a little too condescending. “Maybe we aren’t as prepared as you thought then, huh?” 

Kyungsoo goes quiet, and immediately, Junmyeon looks to Sehun. 

“What?” Sehun asks. 

“What’s your opinion in all this?”

“I don’t have one,” Sehun says. 

“Oh, cut the shit, pretty boy,” Junmyeon says stiffly, and Sehun’s stomach tenses a little. “You’ve always got something to say, so say it.” 

“I just… I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” 

Sehun looks between Junmyeon and Kyungsoo, and he feels the familiar sensation of being stretched between them. 

“I don’t know,” he answers. 

“Don’t be a coward,” Junmyeon taunts. “Say what you feel.” 

“Don’t be an asshole,” Kyungsoo interrupts. “If he doesn’t wanna give his opinion, he doesn’t have to. He’s not obligated.” 

“He’s part of the triad,” Junmyeon says. “If he wants to be in the triad, he has to make his voice heard.” 

“You’re being crazy,” Kyungsoo says. 

“I’m being honest.” Junmyeon turns to Sehun, looks into his eyes in that scary, truthful way he always does. “Just fucking say it. Let’s stop sitting around with our dicks in our hands. You know you’re tired of it.” He stares at Sehun, lets his gaze dip down to Sehun’s neck. “You know you wanna start doing something meaningful.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says, and even as the words stumble out of his mouth, he regrets them. Immediately, he looks to Kyungsoo. “I… I just—”

“Hey,” Kyungsoo smiles. “It’s okay. If that’s how you really feel, then it’s fine.” 

“I just… why _aren’t_ we allowed to engage with the original?” 

Kyungsoo sighs, and Sehun’s heart breaks a little. He’s letting Kyungsoo down. He’s ruining everything. 

“Fine,” Kyungsoo says. “Fine, I’ll… I don’t know. I guess I’ll talk to one of the sergeants, see if they can get us a line with—” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Junmyeon says. “I can handle it from here.” 

“O-Oh, if you’re sure,” Kyungsoo says. 

“It was my idea. I’ll handle the leg work.” Junmyeon pushes up out of his seat, grabs his bag. “Let’s meet at the lower level tomorrow, say… zero eight hundred hours?” 

“How are you so sure they’ll agree to it?” Sehun asks, his brow knitting together in confusion. “I mean, they went through all that work just to brief us. A-And it’s super dangerous, right?” He looks to Kyungsoo. “Right?” 

“They’ll agree to it.” 

He leaves the room, the doors sweeping shut behind him, and Sehun tries to ignore the way Kyungsoo is staring at him. He begins to gather his things in silence, but eventually, Kyungsoo’s silent stare born of disappointment is too much to bear, even for Sehun. 

“I’m sorry,” Sehun says softly. “I… I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“You have to start figuring it out,” Kyungsoo advises. “Because if we’re gonna be following his lead, we have to be sure about him.” 

It makes Sehun look up, meet Kyungsoo’s gaze. 

“Are we not?” Sehun asks. “Sure about him?” 

Kyungsoo averts his gaze, looks to the floor. 

“Why?” Sehun asks. “What’s—”

“I just get this feeling,” Kyungsoo says. “This feeling that… that something’s not quite right with this. That something’s wrong. He’s just—” 

Sehun’s stomach sinks into his body, and he feels ashamed of himself. 

“Too perfect,” Sehun answers. 

“He always has the right answer.” He looks up into Sehun’s eyes. “Always knows what to say. What to do. It feels… I don’t know. But you feel it too, right?” 

“Yeah.” He shuts his eyes. “Yeah.” 

“I dunno,” Kyungsoo says, and when Sehun opens his eyes, Kyungsoo is shrugging. “I just wanna keep an eye on it. Just in case.” 

Kyungsoo is good for the _just in case_ s, for plans and for training and for preparation. Kyungsoo is pure of heart, sound of mind and body. Kyungsoo is everything Sehun’s always wanted to be and more. Kyungsoo is it for him. And it is a good reminder, he tells himself. _Don’t get lost in this triad. Keep your eyes on after._

“After all this is finished,” Sehun says softly, the words all but falling out of his mouth, “I want to talk to you about something.” 

“We could talk now,” Kyungsoo whispers. “It doesn’t have to wait.” 

Sehun couldn’t bear to lose him. He couldn’t bear to lose their tomorrow.

“It does,” Sehun tells him. “But after it’s all over—”

Kyungsoo steps forward, a hand against Sehun’s cheek. He smiles through it. 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo agrees. “Once we’ve won.” 

Sehun likes the sound of that, but he likes the sound of Kyungsoo’s voice saying it even better.  
  


♄

  
  
The bowels of the buildings are dim and dark, lit sparsely. It makes sense to Sehun: agents are so rarely needed to be so low. There are storage centers, mechanical elements to the building that shouldn’t be touched unless they are being maintenanced, creator rooms. They walk down the hall, and it feels horrible, feels like he shouldn’t be there. 

“Come on,” Junmyeon goads, and he is at the head of the line of them, bidding them forward into the darkened hallway. “This way.” 

Kyungsoo turns back, looks at Sehun, and Sehun wonders just what they’ve gotten into. How did he manage to get them a look at the text? How, when it is so dangerous, so powerful and malevolent? Is it another perk of the Black rank? He wants to write Kyungsoo a message on his bracer, ask if everything’s okay, but the flash of light would alert Junmyeon, and that’s the last thing Sehun wants at this point. Questions. 

They whip and wind through the halls, and Sehun is left wondering if they will ever reach their destination, but at a fork, Junmyeon turns to the left, leads them down a hallway with a singular door at the end, a halogen running along the floor, lighting their way. 

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be down here?” Sehun asks. 

“I’m a Black suit,” Junmyeon shrugs. “I can pretty much do whatever I want.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes as they walk, as they make their way down to the storage room. When they stop in front of the nondescript room, Sehun almost walks past it. He thought there would be more… more something. More anything. 

“Is this really where it’s held?” Kyungsoo asks, seemingly echoing Sehun’s internal monologue. 

“What, did you expect a separate building just for a book?” Junmyeon laughs. 

“L-Like it’s just some random tome,” Sehun says, and he shoves his shoulder into Junmyeon’s. “It’s the most dangerous thing in the fucking universe.” 

“No,” Junmyeon says sagely, pressing his thumb up against the reader with all the pomp and circumstance that a Black suit should possess, “the most dangerous thing in the universe… that’s always been us.” 

Kyungsoo snorts out a laugh before entering the room through the sliding door, Junmyeon right behind him. Sehun inhales and exhales before he steps across the threshold, immediately overwhelmed by the picture in front of him. 

The book rests upon the same glass pedestal as before, but it is surrounded by a map of blue lasers. The pleasant and familiar hum of machinery is broken up by the sound of the particle accelerators cooled by liquid helium, a screeching sound that is difficult to listen to. 

“These are the most powerful lasers on the fucking planet,” Junmyeon says, grinning like it excites him. He turns back to them. “Wouldn’t wanna mess with these.” 

“No,” Kyungsoo laughs, “not likely.” 

“W-Where do we go from here?” Sehun asks. “I mean, it’s not like one of us is gonna risk losing a limb to grab it.” 

“Keep your jumpsuit on,” Junmyeon says, and he walks to the wall by the door, using his thumb to open up a panel. “Just gotta… put in the code.” He quickly enters in an excruciatingly long sequence of numbers, one that Sehun doesn’t think he could memorize even if he had the whole year, but once Junmyeon’s finished, the humming sound ceases. Sehun turns, watches the lasers shut off starkly. He whips back around, stares at Junmyeon in wonder. “What?” 

“How did you… how did you remember that passcode?” 

“I’ve always been good with numbers,” Junmyeon shrugs. “No biggie.” 

Junmyeon immediately goes to the Necronomicon, doesn’t even bother for gloves as he touches it, and Sehun sucks in nervous breath, unsure of what else could possibly go wrong, but knowing that surely something is coming. 

Junmyeon flips through the pages, eyes wide. Sehun watches him digest it, and maybe it is just his imagination, but he can sense the transfer of energies, bloody purple and blue. 

“I-Is there anything of note?” Sehun asks. 

“They left out… too much,” Junymeon says. “This… this is enough to get us there.” 

“Where?” 

“To their doorstep,” Junmyeon says. “All of them, I think.” 

“H-How?” Sehun asks. 

He steps forward, just an inch or so away from Junmyeon’s body, and he looks over his shoulder at the same circular yet angular script from the paper… the paper he never translated. 

“I know this language,” Junmyeon confides. “I can read it.” 

“Y-You can?” 

Junmyeon nods, looks back at Sehun like he holds all the hope in the world just in his sparkling gaze. It is a challenge to look away from him, his eyes mesmerizing and dangerous. 

“I still… I still don’t like this,” Kyungsoo mutters, and it breaks Sehun from his thoughts. “It feels so—” 

And he doesn’t need to say it. Sehun knows what he means. It is a vague feeling, dark and cloudy overhead, and it makes him yearn for a warm cup of tea, for the feeling of his mother’s embrace. 

“It’s bad, we get it,” Junmyeon says. He looks over his shoulder. Studies Kyungsoo’s face. “Don’t tell me you wanna back out now.” 

“I never said that,” Kyungsoo says softly. 

“Good,” Junmyeon says. He turns back to the book, his bare fingertips stroking over the text, so foreign and strange. “‘Cause we’re gonna need you. We’re gonna need everything you got.”  
  


♄

  
  
“How does he know this?” Sehun whispers. “How does he know a language that not even the scanners can pick up? D-Did he always know it?” 

Kyungsoo shushes him, and they observe Junmyeon from across the room as silently as they can manage. Still, Sehun can’t quiet his mind. There are too many questions left unanswered when it comes to Junmyeon and his skill. 

“I know Aexada because of my time on Utopia when I was twenty,” Junmyeon says. “I was stationed there for a year, and this was the high language. Only a few people knew it, the respected elders who lived in the capital palace. But I _studied_ in the palace, so I had the opportunity, and I decided it was something I should take some time to learn. It’s all but forgotten now.” 

“Except for you,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon raises his eyes from the book. 

“Except for me,” Junmyeon says. “Well, me and whoever translated it for the Agency. That’s right.” 

It doesn’t sit right with him. Doesn’t make any sense. But they don’t have any other choice. They need Junmyeon, and they need his knowledge, so Sehun folds his arms across his chest, feet kicked up on an ottoman. 

Over the course of the next week, Junmyeon translates. Kyungsoo and Sehun have little to do besides wait. Sehun wants to do something to help, but the language is so bizarre, the circles and the lines nothing like he’s ever seen before. 

Sehun lets his fingers play over the paper in his pocket, the edge fraying worse than before with how much he touches it. He wants to give it to Junmyeon, wants to see what it says, but something keeps him from sharing it. Something deep in the pit of his stomach. 

“If you want to be of help, then I suggest you get me some En-supplements,” Junmyeon says, cocky in his usefulness. “Be a dear and run down to the cafeteria for me, won’t you?” 

Sehun looks to Kyungsoo, silently begs him for some support, but Kyungsoo looks away, a reader in his hands as he smirks. 

Sehun huffs out, pouting as he traipses from the room. Apparently, his new role in the triad is _errand boy_.  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun gets tired of it after about a week. He’s relevant. He’s talented. He knows he is. So why can’t he or Kyungsoo be of service? He’s bored. He could be doing anything else. He could be fighting for the betterment of the universe, but instead, he’s watching Junmyeon eyes scan boredly over texts scanned onto readers. 

Sehun puts his hand down on the table with a bit more force than is strictly necessary, but even so, Junmyeon does not bat an eye. 

“We want to be more included in the process,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon raises one eyebrow without looking up from his reader. 

“Do you know Aexada?” 

“N-No, but we—” 

“Then, I’m afraid at this juncture, you aren’t of much help,” Junmyeon sighs. 

“Well, have you made _any_ progress?” Sehun asks, and he is vaguely aware of how demanding and childish he sounds. 

“Plenty.” 

“Any you can share with us?” 

For the first time, Junmyeon looks up, meets Sehun’s eyes with a grin. 

“None at this juncture,” he says sunnily. 

Sehun huffs, turns, and looks to Kyungsoo. He gestures broadly to Kyungsoo as if to say _You deal with him. He’s both of our problem._

“Why?” Sehun asks. “Why no updates? Why can’t we… like, know what’s going on? Be at least consulted?” 

“A lot of the information is encrypted,” Junmyeon shares. “And if we’re supposed to get the full picture, then I should almost certainly translate _everything_ before trying to pick it apart.” He looks up at Sehun. “Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Sehun grows weary of this kind of thing, being made to feel stupid when what he’s feeling is real, when what he’s thinking is valuable. He turns, storms off, and Kyungsoo breathes in sharply like he knows Sehun is about to do something stupid. 

He grabs his staff from the table, unable to remember the last time he actually used it. He holds it out, points the head of it towards Junmyeon. 

“Whoa,” Junmyeon says, and he’s back to staring down at his reader. “Violence? I would have never guessed it.” 

Sehun bristles, and Kyungsoo stands, puts his hand on Sehun’s shoulder. 

“Don’t,” Kyungsoo says. “It isn’t worth this.” 

Sehun can’t think of anything to say that doesn’t feel like whining, and he’s so sick of feeling like this, feeling like he’s being underutilized, feeling like they’re not moving anywhere, feeling like… like there is so little that they can actually do to change the world. 

Junmyeon pulls on the staff, and it glows blue. “You gonna do anything with this thing, or are you just gonna wave it around in my face?” He smiles up at Sehun. “Are you compensating for something?” 

Junmyeon pulls on it again, a little smirk on his face, like none of it matters. Like he’s the only one who gets the joke. It makes Sehun furious, it makes him… makes him want to do something reckless and stupid. And Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything, doesn’t hold him back when Sehun thought that he might. _Good_ , Sehun thinks. _I’m off the leash._

The staff clatters to the ground, and Sehun brings his foot down onto the arrowhead before storming from the room, smashing his fist against the door’s scanner until the glass breaks around his fist.  
  


♄

  
  
Kyungsoo comes to find him, and Sehun feels like a child throwing a tantrum, making a parent come check on him. Sehun buries his face in his blankets, ignores the sound of the sliding doors hushing open. He ignores the feeling of Kyungsoo’s hand on the small of his back, ignores the way it makes him want to cry. 

“I understand how you’re feeling,” Kyungsoo says quietly. “And the way you’re feeling is valid.” 

“No, it isn’t.” Sehun squeezes his eyes shut so tight he sees stars paint the black. “He knows what he’s doing, and I’m—”

“It’s not childish to want to know that he’s taking our lives seriously.” 

Kyungsoo knows how to read his mind, knows how to find the smallest little insecurities, the hidden away things he wants to keep to himself. _I love you_ , Sehun thinks. _I could never love anyone but you._

“Come on,” Kyungsoo encourages. “I can’t go back without you.” 

It puts the onus on Sehun, and a little smile creeps back onto Sehun’s face. Sometimes, he forgets. Sometimes, he loses sight of the point. The whole idea. If soulmates were real, Sehun is sure that Kyungsoo would be his, sure that he and Kyungsoo were _meant_ to be together in some greater cosmic way. 

“I broke my staff,” Sehun says. “W-Why did I do that?” 

“You were angry with him,” Kyungsoo says. “You do silly things when you’re angry.” 

Sehun hides away from Kyungsoo. “I’m sorry.” He brushes his hand against his face. “I-I need to get better with that.” 

“Sometimes it’s just…” 

“What?” Sehun prompts. 

Kyungsoo looks at the ground as he says it, like he’s too scared to look into Sehun’s eyes. 

“Do you ever get the feeling that he’s… I don’t know, like he’s not taking this seriously?” 

Sehun’s heart races with ice and fractal water, surging through with eagerness and fear. 

“S-Sometimes,” Sehun admits. “Sometimes, and I just…” 

“I don’t know what to do,” Kyungsoo says. “I don’t know what to say to get him to actually _act_ like an _agent_.” He shakes his head before looking into Sehun’s eyes, watery and sad. “I care about you. And I don’t want to lose you because of him.” 

“N-No,” Sehun says. “That would never happen. Right? I mean—”

“Things are real now.” Kyungsoo shakes his head again, and Sehun wants to reach out, wants to touch him. “It doesn’t get any realer than this. And this is the time to… I dunno, to fucking buckle down and realize that our actions have consequences. That not everything is so easily saved.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, “yeah, you’re right.” 

There is a beat of quiet, strung tight between them. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Sehun offers. 

“I don’t know if it’ll help,” Kyungsoo frowns. “I don’t know if… if you’re the best person to talk to him.” Kyungsoo looks into Sehun’s eyes. “Your staff.” 

_Staves can be rebuilt, and so can this triad._

“I’ll do my best.” 

The frown morphs to a weak smile, and Kyungsoo steps forward, offers him a weak hug to match, nothing more than their arms wrapped around each other. Sehun closes his eyes as he rests his cheek against Kyungsoo’s head, breathing in and sighing it back out. 

“It’ll be okay,” Sehun says, and it feels different, being on this side of the equation, taking care of Kyungsoo, telling him that everything will be all right in the end. 

He hopes he’s telling the truth because he’d hate to lie.  
  


♄

  
  
Later that evening, he keys in his edits at the screen, tapping fiercely, and he hardly even notices when the door opens behind him. Sehun hits the _start edits_ selection, watching as the laser comes to life, a magenta light filling the room. 

He knows that Junmyeon is there. He just doesn’t acknowledge his existence for a while. Sooner rather than later, though, Sehun has to say something. He doesn’t like the quiet, the humming of the beam and nothing else. 

He can feel Junmyeon’s eyes on the back of his neck as the staff runs through the editor, the sounds of laser-cutting thick in the air. 

“Can I help you?” Sehun asks, staring at the display window even though the light hurts his eyes. 

“Yeah, I just wanted to figure out what the fuck is going on with you,” Junmyeon asks. “You’re all… fucking weird.” 

Sehun turns, arms folded. 

“Weird?” 

Junmyeon takes a step forward. 

“Yeah, weird.” He sniffs. “You’re usually a bit childish, but this is… I mean, _this_ is extreme.” 

“Huh,” Sehun says, and he turns back to the editor. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you’re so casual about our lives.” 

“Oh, stop,” Junmyeon laughs. “You really think I don’t care?” 

Sehun whips around sharply. “No, I _know_ you don’t care.” He says it at Junmyeon like a fucking dagger before turning back around, focusing on the display window, the cold red light. 

“If I didn’t care, then why would I have saved you back with the Night Mare? Why would I have bothered? I could have left you. I could have gone anywhere else.” 

Sehun can’t quite believe what he’s hearing, the way Junmyeon lords it over him like it was some great act of kindness to save his life, Kyungsoo’s life. 

The editor dings, the light cutting off and leaving the room slightly dim, just a halogen rod in the ceiling singing. He squares his shoulders as he faces Junmyeon once more. He stands up straighter, looks down on him. Brows hard and even. 

“That would have been treason,” Sehun says. 

“If I didn’t care, then why would that matter?” Junmyeon asks. “If I didn’t give a shit, then why would I still be here? Why wouldn’t I have left once I hit Black?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t understand you at all.” 

“I’ll give you a little insight, then,” Junmyeon says. “We’re all just trying to get through it however we can. If my levity upsets you, I’m sorry, but that’s how I deal with the things I’ve seen and the things I’ve done. We’re all fucked up. We’re all traumatized. And we’re all just trying to get through it.” Junmyeon scrubs his temples. “T-There’s gotta be some way that we can coexist in this because, I’m sorry, but I don’t see my method of working and coping changing just because of the triad.” 

It occurs to Sehun in that moment that he doesn’t particularly _like_ seeing the ultra-serious side of Junmyeon. It scares him. Junmyeon, happy-go-lucky and sweet and goofy and a little bit of a wacko… Sehun thinks back to the interexperience, and his shoulders slump. He’s been… he’s been _short-sighted_. So much exists beyond the surface of the water, and the ice of him stretches deep below. A couple jokes doesn’t negate that. A little humor doesn’t change anything. He’s an idiot. And Junmyeon hasn’t done anything wrong.

“I—I’m sorry,” he says. 

Junmyeon lowers his hand from his face slowly, looking into Sehun’s eyes. 

“What?” 

“I’m sorry,” Sehun says. “I… I misinterpreted things. I was wrong. And I’d like to apologize.” 

“Y-Yeah, apology accepted,” Junmyeon says, and he furrows his brow. “Are you really Sehun?” 

“I’ve apologized to you before.” 

“Never so easily. Never without… well, it doesn’t matter.” Junmyeon smiles. “Look at you. Growing up.” 

Junmyeon reaches up, ruffling Sehun’s hair gently. Sehun’s heart clenches in his chest at the easy affection, and he ignores it, bats Junmyeon’s hand away. 

“I’m grown up,” Sehun argues. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” Junmyeon says with a shrug. “We all have growing up to do, don’t we?” He nods towards the editor. “You gonna grab that?” 

Sehun opens the door to the editor, grabs his staff, and slowly withdraws it from the compartment, spinning it in the low light. The arrowhead glitters again, silverstar and inscribed with a rune that he found in one of the manuscripts: _family_.

“Looks good,” Junmyeon says, and he grins wildly. “Wanna go test it out?” 

“No Crystym,” Sehun says. 

“Aw, you’re no fun. Where’s your sense of _adventure_?”

“In the refuse, where it belongs,” Sehun says. “Come on, we’re missing Third.”

As they walk back to the cafeteria, Sehun’s stomach feels a lot lighter than when he left it, Junmyeon’s presence warm at his side.  
  


♄

  
  
Kyungsoo pulls him aside before Third, whispering in his ear as he stares down at the shiny new arrowhead of Sehun’s staff. 

“How did it go?” 

“Good,” Sehun says. “I think we’re gonna learn how to coexist.”

“Coexist…?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Get along.” Kyungsoo looks off, folds his arms across his chest. “What?” 

“He turned it back on you,” Kyungsoo says. “He made _you_ apologize to him.” 

“W-Well, yeah. I was out of line,” Sehun tells him. 

“You have every right to be concerned.” Kyungsoo punches Sehun lightly in the shoulder. “Don’t let him tell you otherwise.” Kyungsoo bites his lip. “This only… ah, I don’t know. It gives me a bad feeling.” 

“W-Why?” 

“He just… he’ll do whatever he wants without consulting us.” Kyungsoo looks at the table, sees him sit in their normal spot. “I think I should talk to him.”

It makes Sehun want to prove himself, want to show Kyungsoo that he can do this.

“I’ll talk to him,” Sehun says. 

“It worked well the first time,” Kyungsoo smirks.

“I’ll be strong this time,” Sehun argues. “Promise.” 

Kyungsoo smiles at him. “Yeah, okay.” He ruffles Sehun’s hair, and the affection is dopamine. “Good work.”  
  


♄

  
  
After Third, he pulls Junmyeon aside, and Kyungsoo gives him a look. Sehun turns, focuses on Junmyeon, on the confusion writ along his brow. 

“What’s up?” Junmyeon asks. “I was gonna go back to my cabin.” 

“C-Could we maybe take a walk?” 

Junmyeon takes a step back, offers Sehun a charming smile. 

“A walk? What, like, through the quad?” 

Sehun shrugs. 

“If that’s where you wanna go.” 

Junmyeon sparkles as he looks Sehun up and down, clearly unsure about the offer but delighted all the same. 

“Sure, let me just go grab my evening clutch,” Junmyeon says. 

“What?” 

“It was a joke,” Junmyeon says, and he grabs his bag from the table. “Let’s go.” 

Sehun watches Junmyeon walk for a moment, strangely attracted to how small his waist appears to be, the jumpsuit cinched tight. For a silly moment, Sehun thinks about how much larger his hands would have to be in order to close around it, but then, Junmyeon turns sharply, a brow raised. 

“Are you coming, or…?” 

Sehun hurries up behind him, Junmyeon laughing softly as they walk through the cafeteria. 

Silence follows them like a storm as they meander through the halls of the building out toward the commons. Junmyeon leads like it comes easily to him, and Sehun supposes that it does. He’s got more than enough experience, has plenty of laurels to rest upon. The more he thinks about it, the more he agrees with Kyungsoo. He isn’t taking it seriously because he thinks everything will work out. Assumes they will. 

There’s no guarantee now, though. Certainly not. 

“So,” Junmyeon says, and the doors to the quad slip open, the air cold and bracing, “what did you wanna talk about?” 

“What?” 

“I assume you wanna talk again,” Junmyeon says, and he scuffs his feet along the gravel as they walk towards the grass. “I mean, why else would you ask me to accompany you on a walk? The cryptic nature of it all… giving me the heebie jeebies.” 

Sehun scoffs, and he too kicks the tip of his boot along the stones. 

“It’s not like that,” Sehun says. “Just wanted to get a minute where I—” 

“Wasn’t entirely focused on impending doom?” Junmyeon smiles, and he sucks in a dramatic breath. “Good, me too.”

“It’s not like that.” 

“What is it like, then?” He tilts his head, studies Sehun uncomfortably close. “Oh.” 

“Oh what?” Junmyeon doesn’t answer, only smirks and walks a little quicker, forcing Sehun to lengthen his stride to keep up. “Oh _what_?” 

“Nothing.” 

“No, tell me,” Sehun says because if there’s one thing he can’t fucking stand, it’s open ends. 

“Just figured out why you were here when I thought we left things on a good note,” Junmyeon comments, and he shoots Sehun a look. “Your boyfriend sent you.” 

Sehun’s stomach goes tight, and he tries to maintain his emotional response. Junmyeon seems to find a way to get under his skin, though, manages to bring out the absolute worst in him. 

“Shut _up_ , he’s not… we’re not _anything_.” 

“Okay.” 

“I’m serious,” Sehun says. 

“Okay,” Junmyeon smiles, and he holds up his hand like he’s waving a white flag. “I get it, I get it.” 

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s a _little_ funny,” Junmyeon says, and he pokes his finger into Sehun’s side until Sehun bats him away. “You always been like this?” 

“Like what?” 

Junmyeon gestures to him broadly. “All… crazy.” 

“I’m not crazy,” Sehun says. “ _You’re_ crazy. I’m normal.” 

“I guess you’re right,” Junmyeon smiles. “We’re all crazy for being here, I think.” 

Sehun huffs out, aware of just how easily their conversations manage to get away from him. They shuffle along, and Sehun tries to collect his thoughts into coherent sentences, tries to figure out how to broach this topic _again_ without becoming the one who apologizes. 

“I… he and I—”

“What?” Junmyeon asks, and he shoves his shoulder into Sehun’s as they walk, the navy sky over them dotted with bright blue stars. “Spit it out already.” 

Sehun breathes out harshly, annoyed that he is charmed by Junmyeon, frustrated with himself. Is he so easily swayed? A handsome face and some antagonism and that’s all it takes for him to lose sight of what he really desires? 

“We just think you should really commit yourself to this.” 

Junmyeon goes quiet, and Sehun uses the opportunity to look at him, observing him silently. There is so much going on underneath the surface of him. Blink and you’ll fuckin’ miss it. 

“Don’t be so uptight,” Junmyeon advises. “It’s only gonna lead to mistakes.” 

It catches Sehun by surprise, like all things Junmyeon says. His mind works quickly as he tries to form his argument, and he realizes then that Junmyeon is coaching him. Training him to think more on his feet. To be faster. Better. 

“They say that you should always be in total control,” Sehun says. “Total control. Mind, body, spirit.” 

“Do you think that’s possible?” Junmyeon asks. “Like, really? Do you?” 

“Of course I believe it. Of course it’s possible.” 

Junmyeon stares at him, a corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. 

“Now I know why you haven’t made Black yet,” Junmyeon says. It puts a bolt of burning anger inside Sehun’s throat, red and hot. He opens his mouth to say something, to argue, and Junmyeon looks deeply into his eyes, like he’s reading him from the inside out. “Did I upset you? I’m sorry. You just have a lot to unlearn, I think.” 

“ _Unlearn_ ,” Sehun says. “You can’t be serious.” 

“As a heart attack.” 

“Why should I unlearn something that works? Something that works for everyone except, apparently, you?” 

“Because I am the best there is,” Junmyeon says. “That’s why.” Sehun scoffs. “Does my confidence bother you?” 

“No,” Sehun says. 

“Good, because I’ve earned that confidence over time and with a lot of hard work. I’m not gonna let some punk like you try and strip me of it.” 

Sehun looks up, expecting to see Junmyeon angry, brimming, but he is just the same. 

“I just thought you’d be different,” Sehun says blankly. 

“Hey, that makes two of us,” Junmyeon says with a little grin. “Come on. It’s getting cold, and you clearly need some sleep.” 

It makes him feel like a little kid, being sent to bed like that, but Junmyeon walks him back to his cabin, waits for him to go in. It is dead quiet inside, and Sehun moves softly so as to keep it that way. 

When he lays his head down onto his pillow, he shuts his eyes, wondering who Junmyeon thought would be different: Sehun, Kyungsoo, or himself.  
  


♄

  
  
The very next day, Junmyeon brings them to room 33, popping in a card to the projector. 

“Sit, sit,” he says eagerly. “And now, I present to you… my translations of all the very important information included in the Necronomicon.” He turns, watches as Sehun and Kyungsoo sit in front of the screen. “Please hold all applause until the end of the presentation.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes. 

“We’re ready,” Kyungsoo says tightly. “Go ahead.” 

Junmyeon clears his throat dramatically, starts with “One hundred million years ago…” 

“Skip ahead,” Sehun says. 

“You don’t have any sense of artistry,” Junmyeon says. “This is my big moment.” 

“We’ve been waiting for information for like,” and he checks his bracer, “two weeks now.” 

“And you’ve got it now,” Junmyeon says. “Riddles, mazes, puzzle pieces! Clues!” 

“W-What?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“Information about the order in which we should _tackle_ the Devastations,” Junmyeon teases. “Isn’t that exciting?” He looks for Kyungsoo’s reaction, lingering a bit too long. 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo agrees. “Really exciting.” 

Junmyeon smiles, turns back to the screen as the words appear above him. “We were lucky enough to have stumbled upon the first Devastation in the correct order.” He highlights the information on the Night Mare, projects it above. “Defeated in the aforementioned correct order, the Devastations will lose power and become easier to defeat. In the _incorrect_ order, we will have the fight of our life on our hands. In the incorrect order, well, let’s just say a prayer now.” 

Sehun sits up a little straighter in his seat, leans forward. “So, how do we know the correct order?” 

“Oh, I’ve already figured that out,” Junmyeon smiles. 

“ _What?_ ”

“You can thank me later,” Junmyeon says casually. “More interesting than all the stuff about the Devastations, of course, is the information that we’ve received about the writer.” 

“The writer of what?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“The Necronomicon.” 

“T-There’s information about the creator?” Sehun asks. 

Junmyeon makes a noise of assent. “Apparently, some leader of supreme evil. Blah, blah, blah, prophecy stuff. Blah, blah, blah, causes struggle and dissent wherever he goes. You know, all that bad stuff.” He flips the page on his reader, and the information above sweeps to the side, pinned, while more information comes flying in. “ _Wrath, jealousy, and division creep into the hearts of all those he touches._ Sounds like a cool guy. Anyway, more information will reveal itself with every Devastation defeated.” He makes another noise, this time giddy. “Isn’t this _fun_?” 

“The fate of the universe as we know it is on the line,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon smiles. “Fun!” 

Kyungsoo sighs, leans back in his chair with his arm covering his eyes. “So, who’s up first, smart guy?” 

“Do you want me to explain my process?” Junmyeon asks. “Or, like, what? You guys just trust me not to fuck it up?” 

“You’ve been working on it long enough,” Sehun mutters. 

“Oh, very rich,” Junmyeon says. “I’d like to see you translate a dead language.” 

“Not dead as long as you’re around.” 

“God, you’re right,” Junmyeon smiles. “I’m amazing.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, gestures with his hands as if to say _Out with it_.

“The second Devastation, after the Night Mare, of course, is on the planet Irilia,” Junmyeon explains. “Ever heard of it?” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says, and he sits up a little straighter in his seat. “Yeah, Irilia. T-The…. the _devastation_ of Irilia.” 

“What?” Sehun asks. “I-I’ve never heard of it.” 

Kyungsoo turns to him, grabs his hand. “It was once the richest planet in the Arcturus system. And then, without much announcement, without fanfare, the planet went silent. Forgotten. _Abandoned._ ” 

Sehun closes his eyes to picture it, tries to imagine what it might look like for a whole world to go dark just like that. 

“A-Any reports on it?” Sehun asks. 

“Here,” Junmyeon says, and he taps at his bracer, sending it up to the screen for everyone to see. Sehun tries to wade through the minutiae before someone else finds the answer, but of course, Junmyeon is the first to find it. “Couldn’t get in for some reason.” 

“Couldn’t get in?” Sehun asks. “What would have stopped them?” 

“No clue,” Junmyeon says, smiling. “How strange.” 

“Okay, well, at least we have our destination,” Kyungsoo says. “And more relevant information?” 

“There’s a series of three mazes,” Junmyeon says, and he taps on his reader, drags the images up above so that everyone can see the circular and sprawling designs. “As you can see, these almost certainly will unlock some greater piece of the puzzle.” 

“Have you solved them already, too?” 

“No,” Junmyeon says, and then immediately, “well, yes, but they haven’t unlocked anything yet, so unless I’m missing something obvious, they just look like three big mazes.” 

Sehun sighs out as he taps the air, highlights the h-grams of the mazes and flicks them down towards his bracer. 

“So, that’s it?” 

“Oh no,” Junmyeon smiles. “That’s not all.” 

Sehun huffs. “Can you just, like, get to the pertinent information so that we can start formulating a plan?” 

“You have no sense of grandeur,” Junmyeon accuses, and he double taps on his bracer, words flying to the screen above. 

Kyungsoo takes one glance and leans back in his chair, throws his arm across his eyes. 

_It is a prophecy_ , Sehun immediately thinks, then, _No. Worse than a prophecy. A riddle._

“Go on. Read it,” Junmyeon commands. “Aloud.” 

“I’m getting to it,” Sehun says, furrowing his brow. He stares up at the text, and he lets his finger dance over the words in the sky. “I was never born, and I will never die. I am the shriek of mourning, and I am blood spilling from an open wound. I am a heart tearing in two, and I am muscle ripping from bone. You cannot truly know me until my plague spreads to you, but when you are finally free of me, you will rest in the stars.” 

Sehun looks over to Kyungsoo, his arm still covering his face.

“Is that it?” Kyungsoo asks. 

Sehun looks up at the screen, reads the final line. 

“Utter the voquev, and all shall be made clear.”

“ _Voquev_ ,” Kyungsoo says, and slowly, his arm falls, eyes opening as he sits up straight in his chair. “I know that. It’s… it’s some version of Alglona, isn’t it? Some pidgin?” 

“We’ll have to look into it, I didn’t get that far,” Junmyeon says. “So, if we manage to find the name of it, you think… what, it’ll appear?” 

He looks to Sehun, and Sehun shrugs his shoulders. 

“Well, it’s not like we have much more to go on at the moment,” Junmyeon says. “Let’s focus on this, okay?” 

“Sure,” Sehun agrees, and he looks to Kyungsoo. “Are we in agreement?” 

Kyungsoo gives him a stiff smile. 

“Okay, let’s solve a fuckin’ riddle, boys,” Junmyeon says, clapping his hands together, and then, when he sees the look Sehun gives him, “Sorry, I just… I love these sorts of things.”  
  


♄

  
  
It’s too vague. There are no clear answers. Sehun wants to do something else. _Anything_ else. Sehun thinks about it in the mornings and evenings, all throughout the days as well, but he gets no closer. Can’t think of anything. Nothing works. Nothing fits. Nothing makes any sense. 

“I hate riddles,” Junmyeon says. 

“A week ago, you said you loved riddles,” Kyungsoo says. 

“I was wrong, I was short-sighted, I was stupid,” Junmyeon wails, and he lies back in his chair, stares at the ceiling. “I was so wise, once upon a time.” 

“Oh, shut up already,” Sehun says. “You were never wise.” 

“I was. Once,” Junmyeon says wistfully. “I could have been something special. Something wonderful. But now look at me… a waste of potential. A teenage wasteland.” 

Sehun furrows his brow at him, entirely missing the purpose of this conversation. “Shouldn’t we be, like, talking about the clues?” 

“That’s all we ever do, and we never get any closer,” Junmyeon says, and he groans loudly, deep in his throat. “We’re gonna die in this room.” 

“If you keep bitching, then yes,” Sehun says. 

“I need something with caffeine,” Junmyeon says. “Wanna escort me to the cafeteria?” 

“It’s after hours,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon makes a fart sound with his mouth before exiting the room, and Sehun snorts, turns back to his notes. 

“Hey.” 

Sehun looks back over his shoulder, sees Kyungsoo watching him.

“Hey,” Sehun says. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says. “Just checking on you.” 

Sehun smiles, wants to kiss him. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” He nods at the reader in Kyungsoo’s hands. “Anything good?” 

“Not really. I know I read that word somewhere, it’s just… I can’t seem to find it in any of these readers.” Kyungsoo frowns, but when he looks to Sehun, his eyes are sparkling with light, with hope. “I’ll keep working hard.” 

The smile on Sehun’s face starts to hurt as he watches Kyungsoo diligently reading, and he turns back to his own literature, thinking _something_ is bound to happen. Any day now.  
  


♄

  
  
They stall on their research, and finding new pieces of information to piece together a larger puzzle becomes more and more novel as the days go by, so when Kyungsoo sucks in a surprised breath, it lances through room 33 like a knife. It jars Junmyeon awake from a nap, and Sehun decides that if the atrocities don’t kill Junmyeon, he’ll do the work for them. 

“What did I miss?” Junmyeon yawns. “Did we do it? Did we save the universe as we know it?” 

“Maybe one step closer,” Kyungsoo says happily. “I found it. The _voquev_.” 

“Finally,” Junmyeon grouses, and he sits up in his seat, gestures for Kyungsoo’s reader. “Let me see.” 

“I found it,” Kyungsoo says. “So it’s my job.” 

Junmyeon rolls his eyes, leans back in his chair again, and folds his arms across his chest. 

“Fine,” he mutters. “Go ahead.” And then, under his breath, “take all the glory for yourself.” 

“ _The ancient union of Alglona and Evili is well-documented. When the two great societies of Alglone and Felo merged with the marriage of the young Alglone queen and—”_

_“Is this a history lesson?” Junmyeon asks._

_“I guess I can… skip ahead,” Kyungsoo says, and his finger slips across the screen several times. He clears his throat before reading aloud. “ _The so-called voquev, meaning title or name, is a high sacrament in the merged cultures, and the voquev is usually only uttered twice in a Alglofelo’s life, once at birth and then once more at the time of their death._ ” _

_“It means name,” Junmyeon says, sighing out angrily, “so we’re exactly zero percent closer than we were this morning.”_

_Sehun buries his face in his hands._

_“Well, Sehun and I took turns solving the mazes, too,” Kyungsoo says, and he double-taps on his reader, flicks them upwards until they are h-gramed above them. “We all gathered the same information. If the solutions mean anything, it is still unclear what exactly they’re trying to tell us.”_

_“Great,” Junmyeon scoffs. “So we’re playing games as the Devastations are potentially… well, you know... devastating.”_

_“You’ve been keeping an eye on the scanner, haven’t you?” Sehun asks. “Have there been any major incidents?”_

_“No,” Junmyeon says, “but there’s been a swelling of energy on Irilia, and you know what that means, don’t you?” Sehun stares at him blankly. “We’re running out of fucking time.”  
  
_

♄

  
  
They keep the Necronomicon close, but they house it in a box of clear, thick plastic enchanted with all of the protective spells Junmyeon knows. Kyungsoo says it’s a bad idea to keep it in a room that they frequent, that the Agency was right to put it down in the depths of the building, and sometimes, Sehun agrees with him. It seems to affect them negatively, and whenever Junmyeon takes the book out of the box, he feels a nervous wave of jealousy and hate wash over him. He wonders if it’s just him. He wonders if Junmyeon and Kyungsoo feel the same thing he feels. 

He can’t picture Kyungsoo ever feeling something so ugly. Junmyeon… he isn’t sure. 

“This sucks,” Junmyeon says, and he lets his fingers dance over the circular words in the Necronomicon again, again, for the fifteenth time that afternoon. “I hate this. There must be… there must be something. Some kind of—I don’t know, some kind of something.” 

Sehun can’t work himself up to find Junmyeon amusing. They are wasting precious time here, and who knows what kind of havoc the Devastation could be wreaking as they speak. Sure, Irilia is abandoned, but who says it's stayed in one place? Wouldn’t that be entirely too convenient? Too easy?

“This is fucking _agony_ ,” Sehun mutters. 

“Just keep thinking,” Kyungsoo encourages. 

“Sehun, w-wait, wa—say that again.” 

“I said this is about as painful as ripping your fingernails off one by one.” 

“No, shut up,” Junmyeon frowns, his brow knitting in frustration. “You said… you said _agony_.” 

“Yeah?” Sehun says, confused. “What, is that—” 

“A concept, unable to be eradicated. Physical and emotional hurt. A facet of existence. It’s pain. Agony. Her name is Agony,” Junmyeon says. “ _Your name is Agony._ ”

Suddenly, the page reveals itself, a splattering of bright red ink across the pages, and it begins to bleed, bleed, bleed, spilling out and over the floor in an unstoppable wave. It begins to flood the room, puddling at their bootheels, and Sehun’s adrenaline kicks in immediately. 

“Oh, shit,” Junmyeon mutters, and he hurriedly wipes at the mess on the table with his jumpsuit sleeve, a bandage on a lasershot. 

Sehun rolls his eyes, steps forward with his staff, and waves it away easily. 

“You know _magic_ ,” Sehun chides. 

“Sometimes you forget,” Junmyeon smiles. 

They stand there for a second or two before Junmyeon throws himself into Sehun’s arms, a sudden embrace that warms Sehun from the inside out. Sehun shuts his eyes for a split second, overwhelmed with happiness, and then he realizes what he’s doing. He immediately detaches himself from Junmyeon, brushes down the sides of his jumpsuit. 

“Good job,” he says. “That… we probably should have figured that out a while ago.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon shrugs. “Whatever.” 

The spell is broken, shattered. 

“So, what now?” Kyungsoo asks. “Where do we go from here?” 

This is what Junmyeon is best at, Sehun’s found: leading. 

“Broad strokes research,” Junmyeon says. “See if we can get any firsthand information on her, on her typical whereabouts, what she looks like, what she’s able to do. What kind of bullshit she’s been up to.” He claps his hands together. “Fuck, I _love_ this feeling.” 

“What feeling is that?” Kyungsoo asks, brow twitching. 

“The _chase_.” Junmyeon breathes in deeply, exhales with pomp and circumstance. “Don’t you love it?” 

Sehun doesn’t know if excitement is contagious, but he’s beginning to think so; Junmyeon’s smile soon jumps onto Sehun’s face, makes him bite his lip just to hide it away.  
  


♄

  
  
The next morning, Agony is a relatively common word in text, apparently. 

He spends an hour or two filtering out all results from his library that don’t refer to a _creature_ , rather, the bland emotional counterpart before he stumbles upon something he thinks might help them. 

“H-Hey, Soo,” Sehun says, and he holds the reader up, beckons Kyungsoo over with a wave. “Come look.” 

Kyungsoo gets up from his seat, pads over, and peers over Sehun’s shoulder. For a minute, Sehun feels it difficult to think, Kyungsoo’s warmth so close to him, and he blinks, trying to focus. 

“You wanted to show me something?” Kyungsoo asks, and that just makes things worse, makes Sehun think about the possibility of them. 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun stumbles, and he hovers back over the words. 

“ _Agony has become known as a creature who stalks and torments happy civilizations. A vixen of incomparable power, Agony can lay waste to a planet within a matter of days, leaving nothing but the ruins behind her_ ,” Kyungsoo reads. “Whoa, this… this sounds like her.” 

“T-That’s what I thought, but it’s just…” 

“What?” 

“It’s from a collection of folktales,” Sehun says. “Old folktales.” 

“Huh.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Huh.” 

“Does this… I mean, two makes a line, right?” Kyungsoo says. “Three makes a pattern, so we’ll just… we’ll keep it in mind. Next time, it’ll be the first place we look.” 

“All right,” Sehun says, and for some reason, a bolt of fear runs through him. “I mean, how do we go about defeating something like this?” 

Kyungsoo sighs, pats Sehun on the back, and his hand lingers there. Sehun lets himself indulge in that touch, feeling the chemicals leak out of him. When was the last time he had this? It feels like forever in-between the long gaps. He should turn. He should tell Kyungsoo how he feels. You never know when it might be too late. 

“We didn’t know how we were gonna do it before,” Kyungsoo says. “And we did it anyway, didn’t we?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So we’ll do the same thing again,” Kyungsoo advises. “We’ll train, and we’ll… we’ll prepare as best we can.” Sehun looks up at him. He is smiling, closed-mouth and tight. “You know I love you, right?” 

Sehun’s heart stops in his fucking chest, and he sucks in the smallest of breaths. He doesn’t mean it the way Sehun wants him to mean it, but still, it feels like light pouring over him, warm and wonderful. _If I could bottle the feeling I get when you tell me you love me,_ he thinks, _I would, and with that, I would never have another bad day, never so long as I lived._

“I love you too,” Sehun says, and he lets himself dream of saying it the way he wants to. He shuts his eyes, steels himself. “We’ll get through it.” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo agrees. “I think so.”  
  


♄

  
  
The message that he receives in the middle of the night is not a silent one. In fact, it wakes the entire cabin, groaning with dissatisfaction as Sehun hurriedly, sleepily tries to silence it. He mutters out a weak apology, but the screen is bright, distracting, so he throws back the covers of his bed, slips on shoes, and pads out into the hall to check his bracer. 

The readout is catastrophic, and Sehun squints hard, sees stars. Surely he read it wrong. He opens his eyes and checks again. 

_Gonna get our deployment notice soon. Massive energy bursts on Irilia. Could potentially cause a black hole and swallow Arcturus whole. Gotta get a move on. Up and at em._

Sehun’s hands begin to shake as he swipes to the messaging system, barely able to click on Kyungsoo’s agent number before the deployment notice comes in. 

**  
DEPLOYMENT NOTICE**

**TODAY, 12 03 2528.  
0800 HOURS. **

**PLEASE REPORT TO HANGAR L21 AT THE SPECIFIED DATE AND TIME TO ENSURE EFFICIENT DEPARTURE.**

**MORE INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR UPCOMING DEPLOYMENT CAN BE FOUND WITHIN THE _ACTIVE DEPLOYMENT_ MENU OF YOUR STANDARD-ISSUE BRACER. **

**THE AGENCY EXTENDS ITS MOST SINCERE THANKS FOR YOUR CONTINUED SERVICE.**

**GOOD LUCK.**

Sehun feels tears brimming at his eyes, and he blinks them away. He should go back to bed. He should try to get some more sleep. 

He walks to the wall, lets his head thunk against the cold metal. _Not yet_ , he thinks. _We’re not ready to die._  
  


♄

  
  
Dread doesn’t leave him, sits thick in his stomach like acid as they depart the hangar, the shuttle ripping through space easily. He closes his eyes as they do their system checks, as Kyungsoo talks them down, Junmyeon talks them up. He has a bad feeling about it. They should have had more time to prepare. They should have… they should have done more. Fearfights won’t always work. They won’t always be able to get away by the skin of their teeth. These things are incomprehensibly evil. These things are… are dangerous beyond compare. 

“Sehun,” Kyungsoo says. “Sehun, are you okay? Your heart rate—” 

“I’m okay,” Sehun says, and he opens his eyes, looks at the dash. “I’m okay, I’m sorry.” 

“Deep breaths,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun attempts to obey. 

“Yeah, in, two, three, four, five…. out, two, three, four, five,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun can hear the smile. 

For some strange reason, it makes Sehun feel better. He shakes his hands in front of him, watches the dotted line on the screen as they make their descent onto Irilia, as they land softly on the planet that intends to consume them. 

He takes a second to himself before he disengages from the ship, grabbing his staff from the compartment at his side. Sehun bends his knees, jumping without leaving the ground, and decides the gravity is perfectly suited for him. _Strange_ , he thinks. _Very strange._

He stares at the sky, looking around. 

The atmosphere is thick with perfume, spicy and sweet, and he immediately raises his mask from his collar, the cinnamon scent eaten away by the purification. He breathes in deeply, the filtered oxygen deliciously blank. With that alone, he knows. She is certainly here somewhere. They will fight today, and they must win.

Junmyeon steps forward, and Sehun expects him to head into the unknown, into the fog, but he stands there hesitantly. 

“What’s wrong?” Sehun asks. 

“Forcefield,” Junmyeon answers, and sure enough, he raises his hand up, resting the flat of his palm against the invisible wall. When he makes contact, the invisibility shivers, and Sehun watches the movement ripple out. “Interesting.” He knocks his knuckles against it. “Never seen one quite so… impenetrable.” 

“There must be some way inside, right?” Kyungsoo asks. “I mean, we didn’t come here for nothing, did we?” 

“No, we’re supposed to be here,” Junmyeon says, and the confidence in his voice is alluring, much to Sehun’s dismay. “She’s drawing us in. She wouldn’t have started raising hell if she didn’t want us here.” 

“Then, how are we supposed to get in?” Kyungsoo asks. “Try a spell?” 

Junmyeon nods, pursing his lips. 

“Stand back,” he says, and he waves Kyungsoo and Sehun away before aiming the head of his staff at the forcefield, blasting it with shimmering green light. 

It is a beautiful sight, the light surrounding the forcefield, and for a moment, Sehun thinks it might work, might actually choke the life out of the wall of energy before turning it to ash, but instead, the green light of the spell is repelled, wiped away like dust from a forgotten screen. Sehun’s shoulders fall just a touch, but Junmyeon doesn’t seem nearly as discouraged. Instead, he turns, claps his hands together. 

“Let’s scan the perimeter,” Junmyeon says. “We’re missing something. I know we are.” 

Without another word, the triad begins their journey around the small planet, and for the better part of the morning, all they do is wander, taking in the landscape and the scenery. The twin suns of Irilia shine down prettily over the land, and Sehun supposes that this was once something great. Something lovely. 

Several hours of walking pass, and Sehun sees nothing of note. Junmyeon walks up ahead of him and Kyungsoo, scanning the area, staff at his side like he needs to be ready for anything. It’s rare to see him so on-guard, so prepared, and Sehun decides he likes that side of Junmyeon almost as much as all the rest. A terrible thought to have. He swallows over it. 

They walk more, and they waste more time. He has almost managed to convince himself that their travel here was for naught when Junmyeon makes a shocked noise, strangled by his throat, and he comes to a short stop. Sehun and Kyungsoo automatically stop behind him. 

“What?” Sehun asks. “Is everything okay?” 

Junmyeon silently raises his staff, and instinctively, both he and Kyungsoo do the same, but Junmyeon doesn’t cast a spell, only points to the ground. 

“Look,” Junmyeon says. “Come look.” 

Cautiously, Kyungsoo and Sehun step forward. There, embedded in the earth, are three wheel-like white stones with plain faces. They are held within a border of red stone, and at their feet, there are three red stone circles. 

“W-What are these?” Sehun asks. 

“The key to getting in,” Junmyeon says, and then suddenly, Junmyeon stomps his foot on the first red-stone circle. It clicks, and the wheeled stone rotates, displaying a new face, marred with one single etched line. “Go on. Step on the others.” 

Sehun looks to Kyungsoo, raises his brow. Kyungsoo shrugs his shoulders and obeys, stepping onto the second circle. The second wheel reacts much the same, rotating to the single etched line. 

“Huh,” Kyungsoo says. “A series of numbers, then?” 

Junmyeon hurriedly steps on the first button, rotating the wheel through. There are nine different faces, etched with the corresponding number of lines. 

“Three numbers, one through nine,” Junmyeon says. “How many possible combinations is that?” 

“One thousand,” Kyungsoo answers, and Sehun looks at him. “What? I can do math.” 

“God, that would take too long to brute force it, huh?” 

“I guess we should just think,” Kyungsoo says, and he sits down on the ground, staring at his bracer. “There must be something we’ve missed.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he sits next to Kyungsoo. “Let’s just take a minute to think.” 

The day falls away from them quickly, and by the end of the hour, Junmyeon is furiously stomping on the buttons, rotating each wheel. 

“I hate puzzles,” Junmyeon says. “I hate riddles. I hate _games._ ” 

“No, you don’t,” Kyungsoo laughs. 

“The only thing I like is mazes,” Junmyeon says. “ _One_ solution. _One answer._ No room for thinking.” 

Kyungsoo snorts, but it triggers something in Sehun. He looks at his bracer, taps on his notes. Pulls up the mazes. He highlights the solutions, makes them glow in red. There, if you squint, if you take a step back and you convince yourself, you are staring at a number. 

“Oh,” Sehun says. “Oh, oh shit.” 

“What?” Junmyeon asks. “What, what’s going on?” 

“I got it,” Sehun says. “The mazes.” 

“What?” Kyungsoo says. “What about the mazes?” 

Sehun fumbles, hands shaking as he drags the solutions forward into existence with an h-gram. They hover blue above them, and Sehun points to the lines solving the mazes, traces them with his finger. 

“See, look, there’s—,” and he stands by the first maze, draws the line. “Three.” He moves to the second, traces it again. “Zero.” And by the final maze, he follows the jagged lines until the number is complete. “Six.” 

Kyungsoo presses the buttons, and slowly, the stones rotate to match the numbers of the maze sequence. Sehun holds his breath as Kyungsoo taps on the final button, cycling through the numbers until the stone reads _six_ , and as soon as the stone rocks into place, there is a rush of air. 

They look up to the sky, and above them, the dome of the forcefield falls from the apex, collapsing in a blocks of pixels until they are dead on the earth. Sehun smiles, but he bites across it. Anyone would have figured it out sooner or later. He only happened to be the first. He looks down, tries to hide the burst of pride in his heart.

“Hey,” Junmyeon says, and when Sehun looks at him, he is smiling. “Good work.” 

For some silly reason, it makes Sehun’s stomach swell. He ignores it, fingers tight on his staff before he realizes that the new arrowhead is pulsing blue. 

“All right. Spread out,” Kyungsoo says. “We’ll cover more ground.” 

“Are you sure?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Sehun?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“Uh—” 

“Fine,” Junmyeon says. “Fine, whatever.” 

Still, Sehun catches the look that Junmyeon gives him, but they nod at each other anyway, and the three of them split off in different directions, left to stare up in awe at the majesty of the planet. Sehun lets them go, Kyungsoo to the left, Junmyeon to the right, and he looks up, the twin suns blocked behind the massive structure that looms over him.

He has been all over, seen so much, and still, his breath catches in his chest as he stares up at the grand building before him. It looks regal, church-like, and he can’t tell what it’s made from, but it shines like liquid gold, reflecting light like a beacon. Trefoil windows line the facade, and Sehun walks along the edge of the building and toward the courtyard. There are huge pots filled with earth, and they look solid gold, but when Sehun hits a knuckle against one, he can tell it's a lacquer over some kind of stone. The pots line the walkway, roofed and cool, and he holds his staff behind his back, walking heel-toe, heel-toe. The vegetation, the verdant life… it’s all gone. Rotted away. It was beautiful once; that he can tell. There were flowers and pods and bushes full of flutters and the like. People spent time here, afternoons lazing in the light of the stars overhead. He can practically hear the music as he walks, the heels of his boots thunking along the natural stone of the veranda. 

He walks out into the court, stares up at the clear sky, and he dreams. Dreams about what it would have been like to share such a place with Kyungsoo. He closes his eyes as the cool wind of the evening paints over him. He wishes he could feel it on his skin. He wishes Kyungsoo was at his side. He wants to be near him. 

Sehun opens his eyes, looks around him, and tries to imagine this magnificent place at its height. He and Kyungsoo, sharing wine. Sharing food. Sharing in each other. He pictures Kyungsoo’s head in his lap. He pictures Kyungsoo’s hands cupping his face. He pictures their lips touching. He can practically feel the way Kyungsoo would exhale against his mouth. 

He squeezes his eyes shut hard, opens them to see stars. He holds his staff out in front of him. Focuses up. 

Benches of the same lacquered gold rest under dark lamps, and Sehun twists his wrist a quarter-turn, the arrowhead of his staff glowing blue, a flame leaping from its edge into the lamp. It looks romantic, just as he’s sure it was intended to look, and for another moment, he forgets what he’s doing. Forgets where he is. 

_Kyungsoo overtop of him. His breath soft and sweet against Sehun’s cheek. Breathing his name. More, more. Please. I’ll do anything._

It is sudden. Terrible. Grips him by the viscera. His entrails. 

He looks around him, squinting, and the world is filled with red. He is blind. He can’t see anything, nothing but red. Red. Red. Agony, she calls herself. She is agonizing. His vision clears, a pinhole in all the smoke, and he sees her. She is not a giant. She is just a woman, red hair cascading down her naked back like flames. 

Underneath his jumpsuit, his skin is on fire, and he breathes out sharply, the surprise leaping up to his mouth, and he casts. 

“Filum,” Sehun says, but the words are swallowed up in smoke, the feelings devoured whole, and just like that, the woman grows, grows, grows. 

“Fool,” she chides him, and with a wave of her arm, she pushes him back, making him collapse to the ground. “Foolish boy.” 

_No,_ he thinks. _No, I’m not._

“Yes,” she accuses. “Foolish and hopeful. You knew that it would be difficult, but still, you came.” Her fingers are clawed and sharp, and she lifts them to her mouth, licks them. “Your love for him is delicious. Sweet and so pure. It tastes like summerberries, and I will pull it from you like spun candy until nothing remains. Until you can’t even remember his name.”

He looks to his left, to his right, and he finds where his staff clattered to the stone floor. Immediately, he tries to scramble backwards, tries to clamber back towards it, but she grows in power, in strength, in size, and slowly but surely, he is leached. 

“This is rare,” she says, and when she speaks, he is transfixed by her teeth, sharp and straight and pointed at the tips. “Oh, you are a dessert after all these years.” 

He can feel her feast upon him, the feeling of love drained from him like blood from his veins. He is grasping at nothing, his hands clenching at his sides as he tries desperately to hang onto his consciousness, to his emotions, to his… to his life. He is dying. And she is killing him. 

“Look at you,” she coos, and she climbs over him, her body hot over his, and a whimper falls from his mouth. “Look at _you_. Does it hurt?” 

He bites his lip to stop from crying out more, the pain sizzling like naked flesh dripping with liquid metal, burning, blistering. Images in his head, words he can’t remember putting there, things like sear, hiss, pungent. He can practically smell his skin, and it smells mordant, acidic and foul. 

“Does it hurt?” she repeats, and she presses a razor-sharp nail into his chest. It slices through his jumpsuit easily, like something even sharper than a knife, and it does not yield. She digs the nail in, and he breathes in sharply, the dagger inside of him now. “Does it?” 

“Y-Yes,” he answers brokenly, the sobs shuddering out as the dam inside him breaks. Each cry becomes more pitiful than the last as he screams out to the sky as he begins to beg. “P-Please, please, stop. Stop. _Stop_ , please.” 

“Tell me,” she says, and she twists his finger, the nail of her finger slicing out a pinhole from his muscle, “tell me what it feels like.” 

“It hurts,” Sehun whimpers, and he can taste his own tears, panicked. “It hurts, please.” 

“I can make it stop,” she whispers, and she grinds her body into his, her long red hair flowing around him. “I can make it end.” 

“Y-Yes.” He swallows, and even that hurts now, knives in his throat. “Please.” 

“Tell me what it’s like to lose someone,” she says. “And then, I’ll make it stop.” 

“It hurts,” he whimpers. “It hurts.” 

“Minseok.” And he gasps, her nail pressing inside him. He looks down at his chest, sees her hand covered in blood and scraps of his skin. “Tell me about him. Tell me about the way he died.” 

“Stop,” he begs. “Please, I—” 

“You what?” she asks, and she leans down, soft and sweet and seductive, and she presses her lips to his, tasting of cinnamon and fire and melting bone, and he feels the world _close_ , shuddering its doors, the light fading, fading into nothing. 

“I lov—” 

It is sudden, the burst of light. Like a star being born above them. His eyes flutter open as the weight over him leaves, as a hellish screech echoes through the sky. It is bone-shatteringly high-pitched, and he struggles to keep his eyes open, struggles to stay awake. He looks up at the navy night, the spell of red broken. He stares at the stars of the universe, and he hears… he hears their voices. Kyungsoo. Junmyeon. He hears them. _Alive_ , he thinks. _Good. I would have hated it if they died just because of me._

He is slow to turn his head, all his movements lazy and difficult, but when he does turn, he sees them with her, with Agony herself, with the physical manifestation of pain. Sehun breathes in, smells her spice, and he breathes out as it chokes him a little more. 

Kyungsoo is holding her off, a bubbling spell that they practiced for just such an occasion. She pushes against it, red magic from her fingertips, lumped and curdled like old milk. Sehun’s heart is tense inside his chest, and it feels like he’s on fire as he watches them, as the skin of the bubble goes thinner and thinner, the acid of her magic eating away at it. Sehun is dissolving, the poly-fabric of his jumpsuit deteriorating, and he weakly arches his head to stare down at his body. He is drenched in blood, though he cannot say for certain whether or not it is his own. She was bleeding, and with every step, the gore grew. 

The hole in his chest is deep, and he can’t tell how deep. Not that it matters, he thinks dizzily. Maybe he’ll die. Doesn’t matter how deep the holes are if you’re dead. He smiles to himself, the fog in his head thick and unyielding, and he listens to the music of magic, the music of battle. 

He sees the colored light of spells splitting and knitting over him, hears the furious and frantic communication between the two of them, and not for the first time, he considers the fact that he is the weak link in the triad. He is the odd one out. He weeps, weeps for what could have been, for what life should have been. 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon screams. “Stop, she’s—” 

And when he looks over, a feeble turn of his head, he sees her grow. She is still feeding off him, off his pain and his sadness and his anxiety, and with every pulse of it through him, she gets that much more powerful. 

Hurriedly, he tries to push himself off the ground, push through his emotions, but he is bound, stuck to the ground. Sehun squeezes the residual tears from his eyes, overwhelmed, and he tries to remember some of the spells that he learned back when he was still in his classes. The unbind. He can do it. He can remember it. He’s never cast it without his staff in his hand before, but there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? And no time like the present. 

He funnels all his hectic feelings into a spell, balls it up in the center of his chest, and before it bleeds out through the gaping wound, he sends it out with a whisper, casts and keeps casting until the invisible ties over him unweave and unravel. It is a glorious feeling, and his chest heaves as he breathes in clear air, the cloud of red swallowing him up dissipating for good. He shudders as he tries to catch his breath, as he comes back up to the surface, and it is worse than he realized, blinking blood away from his eyes. 

They are fighting for their lives, and she is wondrous to behold. Her magic is fire, smells like spices that are burning brown, and she whirls it over her head in circles, twisting, tunnelling circles, before she sends it over to them with a scream. Her teeth are dripping with venom as she yells, as they try to protect themselves from the onslaught. Junmyeon has a bubble around them, the same bubble that Sehun remembers from their interexperience, black and iridescent like an oil slick, but the fire magic is burning it down to nothing, and soon, there will be nothing left of them. 

Sehun squeezes his eyes shut as he sends the blast of Amorenta to her, pink and glittering, ball of pure, happy energy, and it knocks her off her feet with a scream that echoes overhead. 

“No,” she calls, and when tears fall from her eyes, they are yellow and fat. “No, please, you—” 

Junmyeon doesn’t wait, uses the moment to his advantage. The bubble drops, and without another word, he kills her, a white stake of light driving into the red witch’s heart. 

Her body twists and gnarls, her limbs cracking and bending like roots of a tree. Agony screams, fiery and loud, a column of black smoke rising from her as she disintegrates, chipping and falling apart into ash. Sehun has tears in his eyes, a hole in his chest, and as she dies, the world goes green. He goes dizzy, the sudden heat ripped from his throat, and then, suddenly, he is on the ground, his head against the dirt. 

They race over to him, and Sehun stares up at them, wondering how he keeps getting so lucky. How did they manage? How did they get so far? Why is it always him? Is he the weak link in all this? 

He breathes out as they come to him, and tears slip down the sides of his face, as everything fades back in, color and sound and feeling in his extremities. 

“Fuck,” Junmyeon curses, and he collapses to Sehun’s side, holds his hands over Sehun’s chest. “ _Fuck._ ” 

“I’m sorry,” Sehun whimpers pathetically. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know why it’s always me.” 

“Shh, shh,” Kyungsoo says, and he kneels beside Sehun’s body, hurriedly pulls the mini medmach from his waist. “It’s okay. You're all right.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, weakness leaching all his energy from him. “I didn’t help.” 

“Shut up. Yes, you did. We wouldn’t have done it without you,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun sees tears in his eyes, frustrated or sad or joyful, Sehun can’t be sure. 

“I wanted to help,” Sehun whispers sadly. “I really wanted to help.” 

“It’s fine,” Kyungsoo says, and his lips are against Sehun’s forehead. “It’s fine; you’re okay.” He presses a hint of a kiss to Sehun’s brow. “You’re fine. I got you.” 

It simmers into Sehun like fizzling carbonation, like dangerous bubbling in his bloodstream. He can barely get oxygen to his brain, and his vision is hazy and lost. All he can see is Kyungsoo’s dark hair, and all he can feel is the frantic pounding of his pulse in his neck, in his ears, in his eyes. Kyungsoo is fiddling with Sehun’s bracer, and Sehun stares at him, feeling a swell of affection, of desperation tinted with love. 

_It’s not lost_ , he thinks, silly and smiling. _I still love him. She couldn’t take this from me. Not even when she wanted to._

“Rest,” Kyungsoo says, and he breathes out against Sehun’s skin, warm and comforting. He takes a mask, and it smells like plastic when it rests over Sehun’s nose and mouth. “Take deep breaths, all right? Count with me.” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and he sucks in a breath just as Kyungsoo does, deep, filling his lungs. 

“One,” Kyungsoo says. 

“One.” 

Again, they breathe together, against each other, with each other, and Sehun’s eyes close as the mask fills with gas. 

“Two,” Kyungsoo exhales. 

“Two.” 

He breathes in, smells sweet-smelling citrus, orange, lemon, and lime, and by the time Kyungsoo utters _Three_ , Sehun is asleep.  
  


♄

  
  
When he wakes, he is exceedingly comfortable. 

Sehun opens his eyes, yawns, and stretches his arms, rolling his shoulders back. There is a plush blanket over him, and he curls into it, tucking it up under his chin as he settles back into the bed. And it is a bed, he realizes happily. He is wrapped up in bed. Not… Not _his_ bed, but a bed all the same. 

He slowly opens his eyes, stares up at the majestic ceiling, painted with a cluttered, luxurious scene with rich colors and gilded edges. This was a rich place once. Sehun wonders what kind of people lived here. What kind of problems they had. Silly ones, he imagines. Ones that didn’t compare to their last problem. Their final problem. 

“You’re awake.” 

Sehun turns, and Junmyeon is sitting there, eyes tired. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, and he shifts atop the soft mattress, lays his head along his arm. “Sorry.”

Junmyeon snorts, a smile painting across his lips. “What could you possibly be sorry for?” He leans forward in his chair, and he takes Sehun’s hand in his. “ _I’m_ sorry. We… we shouldn’t have split up. You shouldn’t have been left on your own.” Junmyeon looks down at their hands, tied together, and strangely, it makes Sehun’s chest hurt. “I hope you can forgive me.” 

“There’s nothing to—it wasn’t your fault. I should have been able to handle it on my own. I should have—” 

“We’re a triad.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“I should have stayed with you,” Junmyeon says insistently. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Sehun says. “In the end, we won.” 

Junmyeon tightens his hold on Sehun’s hand. 

“It matters,” Junmyeon says. “Of course it matters. What about if we didn’t win? What about if we did, but it came with a cost?” 

“Okay,” Sehun says sleepily. “I get it. I get it.” 

Junmyeon looks into Sehun’s eyes, and while the danger has abated for the moment, Sehun feels fear drip through him. _Don’t look at me that way_ , Sehun thinks. _Don’t make me think about the past._

“I’m not sure that you do.” 

“I do,” Sehun argues. “I get it.” 

There is a soft moment between them, and Sehun tells himself that he should pull his hand away. It’s been too long now, the touch strung out too thin, bowing in the middle. But they hold on to each other, stronger together, Sehun realizes. 

“Where’s Kyungsoo?” Sehun asks. 

“Searching the premises,” Junmyeon says. He looks over his shoulder. “We were taking turns watching over you.” 

“You could have woken me.” 

“Nah.” He turns back to Sehun, smiles at him. “You needed your rest.” 

“I’m good.” 

Junmyeon breaks their hands apart, gently pushes Sehun flat onto the bed. He pulls at the zipper of Sehun’s jumpsuit, and Sehun sucks in a breath, chest rising as the air hits his skin. He looks down at the flesh, flushed red. His veins are pronounced around the carved hole in his pectoral, purple and pulsing. Based on Sehun’s knowledge, it looks… not great. Not as bad as it could be, of course, but certainly not ideal. 

“It’s healing,” Junmyeon says, “but it’s strange. The medmach couldn’t figure out what to do besides—”

“Process it like venom?” Sehun guesses. 

Junmyeon sits back in his chair, folds his arms across his chest. Looks vaguely proud of Sehun. 

“Good. Very good.” Sehun likes the praise that Junmyeon lays on his shoulders, enjoys it too much. It reminds him of learning. “So just relax. We’ll move when you can.” 

“I feel okay to move,” Sehun says. 

“You’ll feel better in a bit.” Junmyeon nods at Sehun’s chest. “Zip up. It’s been kinda cold ever since she left.”

Sehun obeys, zips the jumpsuit back up, and he settles back in against the bed. 

“Just a few more hours,” Junmyeon says. “And then we’ll go home.” 

Home sounds nice, Sehun thinks. Sounds warm. 

How have things managed to move so quickly, he wonders. How do things go from rapid noise and light to absolute silence, totally dark? He doesn’t know. He should know. He should be prepared for things like this. 

“All right,” Sehun agrees. “A few more.” 

“Shut your eyes. Stop thinking. ” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and once again, he obeys.  
  


♄

  
  
When he wakes again, Kyungsoo is leaning over him, his presence demanding to be felt. He smiles down at Sehun, and Sehun resists the near overwhelming urge to take him by the shoulders, press their bodies together in a tight line. Maybe it is whatever pain medicine the medmach gave him, but he feels weightless and free. 

“Hi,” Kyungsoo says. “Feeling okay?” 

“Feeling _so_ good,” Sehun smiles. 

“Oh, is that right?” 

“Yes,” Sehun says. “I feel _great_.” 

“Ready to get back to the Agency?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“Yeah.” Sehun tries to sit up, but his body feels suddenly very heavy, and he flops back down. “Oops.” 

“Goof,” Kyungsoo says, and he pulls Sehun up by the hand until they are staring at each other, Kyungsoo throwing Sehun’s arm around his shoulder. “One, two, three.” And then suddenly, Sehun’s weight is braced on Kyungsoo and they are standing hip to hip. “Good?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun chokes. “Yeah, good.” 

He turns at the sound of boot heels clicking through the building, and he sees Junmyeon walking in, tapping at his bracer. He looks up, smiles when he sees Sehun up. 

“Okay?” he asks. 

“Okay,” Sehun says. 

“ _Okay_.” He taps again at his bracer. “Ready for liftoff whenever you two are ready.” 

They walk back to the ships together, and Kyungsoo gingerly helps Sehun into his, the staff tucked neatly beside him. When the capsule seals around him, Sehun shuts his eyes, waits for the gentle feeling of lifting up off Irilia. For the short trip, he dreams about revisiting Irilia, coming back when everything is fresh and new again.  
  


♄

  
  
After they arrive, Kyungsoo quickly takes their staves. 

“I’ll put these in storage,” he says. “You two should go do recollections before your interviews.” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and when Kyungsoo leaves the hangar, descending to the storage levels, Sehun turns back to Junmyeon. “Ready?” 

Junmyeon looks Sehun up and down, studying him. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asks. 

“I’m fine,” Sehun says, and he quickly pulls down the zipper of his jumpsuit, showing Junmyeon his chest. “See?” 

There is a scar left over, perfectly circular but shallow. Atrophic. 

Whether it is curiosity or concern or something else entirely, Junmyeon steps forward, the soft tips of his fingers brushing along Sehun’s skin. It makes Sehun suck in a breath, sharp, and he can’t take his eyes off where Junmyeon is touching him. It is almost reverent, like he’s touching something important, rare, expensive. 

“Does it hurt?” Junmyeon asks. 

“N-No,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon looks up into his eyes. “Is that because of the pain meds?” His smile quirks across his face. 

“No, shut up,” Sehun says weakly. 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says, and his fingers stroke strangely down Sehun’s breastbone. It makes Sehun shiver, but he has enough sense to attempt and curtail it. “As long as you’re good.” He walks off, and Sehun stands there, suit open, watching him go. When Junmyeon turns back around, Sehun realizes he’s been shocked into stillness. “Coming?” 

Sehun hurriedly zips up his suit, follows Junmyeon off to the recollection centers. Hopefully he’ll be able to keep Junmyeon out of his memory, but he doesn’t think he’ll be successful. Something about him just _sticks_.  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun sits for his interview, and the black screens bleed blue as the directors sing their praise. 

“According to your recollections and the interviews of your fellow triad members, you endured the brunt of the attack on your own,” the director says, her voice deep with purpose. “And still, after being critically, potentially mortally wounded, you were able to cast in order to help them secure the premises.” 

“I tried my best,” Sehun admits, and it feels strange, hearing his failures framed in such a positive light. 

“You succeeded,” another director says. “You did all that you were asked and more. The board couldn’t be more satisfied with the progress that your triad has made thus far regarding the Necronomicon.” 

“Further commendations are in order,” another director comments, and Sehun’s heart leaps into his mouth. 

Sehun presses the button for the microphone. 

“F-Further commendations?” Sehun asks. “But I only just hit—” 

“Special circumstances call for special responses,” the director says. “Congratulations, agent. You’ve been promoted to Grey 5.” 

Pride eats through his bloodstream so quickly that the oxygen barely remains, and he feels vaguely lightheaded. He grabs the desk in front of him to steady himself. 

“Agent 78182 personally recommended you for promotion, and he also alerted us to the injuries you sustained while in combat on Irilia,” a director says. “Please proceed to your medmach at your earliest convenience.” 

_Junmyeon_ , Sehun thinks. _Why would Junmyeon recommend me? What have I done to be worthy of such a rank?_

“Y-Yes,” Sehun stutters, thumb nearly slipping off the button. “Yes, thank you.” 

“Do you have any further questions, comments, or concerns, Agent?” 

“No,” Sehun answers. “Thank you.” 

“Again, the Agency is extremely pleased with your progress, and your unwavering loyalty towards the Agency is well known. We and the rest of the universe are grateful for your service.” 

Sehun presses the button again, mutters his shocked thanks before the blue lines on the screens go black and he is left to wander back to his cabin, broken and yet impossibly whole. He wonders what they told Junmyeon, and he wonders what they said to Kyungsoo. Wonders if maybe, maybe all of this will work out in the end after all. They are building towards something great, the three of them. Together.


	4. Chapter 4

_He is dreaming, he thinks. It is one of those dreams where you are not quite sure. His eyes flutter open and everything is dim and dark around him, everything save for a steady green light. Sehun looks around him. It is a strangely familiar place, as if he’s visited it before some other night. He blinks sleepily as he is filled with a sort of dread that is reserved for ugly places, places built of rusted and thick with the stench of coolant._

_There are wires at his neck, his wrist, and he wonders what kind of Agency test he’s remembering. Some version of the future, he thinks. He watches digital readouts spit out numbers and lines, and he tries to read them, but the words jumble and twist as he attempts to focus his eyes. Why can’t he read it? Why?_

_He is so tired, and he is being dragged by the undertow, wave after wave of exhaustion, and the more sleep tries to take him, the more he struggles. He fights. Holds his eyes open as long as he can manage. Why, he wonders?_ This is an ugly place, and I want to go home. __

_The light over him shifts to blinking green, and Sehun’s eyes flutter at the movement of color. He can still feel Agony, her lithe body over his. He hurts. He hurts. Everything hurts. Suddenly, the light changes, moves to a bright, happy yellow before it too starts to blink at him._

_He has a split second to wonder if this is what death is before he is catapulted from the dream, launched back to consciousness like he is swimming to the glass surface of water._   
  


♄

  
  
At zero five hundred hours, the halogen lights go on, and Sehun sits up, happy to have made it to the light. The rest of his cabinmates are still lazing around, still waking up, but Sehun is wide awake. He’s been lying awake for hours. It was a dream. A nightmare, he corrects. Something unpleasant, disconcerting. He shakes it away as best he can. 

He stands, slides his feet into his slippers as he stretches, taps on his bracer. No messages. He squeezes his eyes shut until he sees stars, opens them again. He’s looking forward to his shower. 

He looks up, sees a few of his cabinmates staring at him. 

Sehun looks down, tries to understand what they’re looking at. He makes sure his jumpsuit is zipped all the way up. He knows scars are rare, and people find them unpleasant to look at. He looks up again, finds them still staring at him. Seongwoo, Jihyo, a few of the others. 

“What?” Sehun asks. 

“Word’s getting around,” Seongwoo smiles. “Grey 5. That’s absolutely nuts.” 

Sehun looks down, focuses all his energy on swallowing over the pride that lurches up in his stomach. It is a sickness, he reminds himself. Pride makes you feel invincible, and in turn, leaves you vulnerable. 

“I owe it to my triad,” Sehun says. 

“So humble,” Seongwoo says, and he pats Sehun on the shoulder. 

“You have Junmyeon, don’t you?” another agent says, and Sehun thinks his name starts with a J. Jin or something. “He’s amazing.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun agrees. “He’s certainly an adept agent at this point and time in his career.” 

They soon realize they are getting nowhere with him, and they wander off, talking amongst themselves. Sehun wonders what they say about him. Wonders if they dislike him. He shouldn’t care, but he does. Just doesn’t know how to make people like him. They never taught a course on that. 

They move about, and Sehun follows in line as they move to the shower machines, the whispers sticking close to him wherever he goes. He misses the old days. He didn’t have a reputation then, and no one cared who was in his triad.  
  


♄

  
  
They don’t really get time off. When the fate of the universe is at stake, you jump back into work like it is the last thing you’ll ever do because, in fairness, it might be. 

They sit in the training room, and Junmyeon explains the procedure. 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says, and he begins his presentation, words and pictures flying across the screen, “two Devastations down. Five to go.” 

“We’re never gonna make it out of this alive,” Sehun mutters. 

“You keep saying that, but we’re still here,” Junmyeon smiles. 

“By the grace of the benevolent creator,” Kyungsoo comments. 

“Benevolent?” Sehun says. “What’s so benevolent about the creator?” 

“Speaking of creator,” Junmyeon says, “we meant to show you this.” Suddenly, an h-gram, a double helix appears before them. “We found it when we were exploring.”

The curling ladders of information twist in the air, and Sehun reaches up, spins them into a tizzy. 

“DNA?” Sehun asks. “Wh-Where did you find it?” 

“Buried in the ash of the witch,” Junmyeon says. “It was… it was on a book.” 

“A book?” Sehun asks. “What kind of book?” 

“Leather-bound, organic materials. Made from a templar cow, we think,” Kyungsoo says. “Pages were pulp-based. Pretty standard stuff for this galactical advancement.” 

“Well, what did the book say?” 

“Empty,” Kyungsoo says. “But we scanned, and we found…” and he gestures to the air, to the strand of DNA. 

“Any clue on what kind of creature it belongs to? Humanoid or… otherwise?” 

“That’s what we don’t know,” Kyungsoo interrupts. “We ran it through the scans, but the results always come out like… like they’ve been interfered with or something.” 

“Can we try it again?” Sehun asks. “Maybe it was just a malfunction.” 

“Be my guest,” Junmyeon says, “but we’ve run it about a hundred times.” 

Sehun shrugs as he raises his bracer, navigates to the scan feature. Better to be safe than sorry. He watches as blue light intersects blue light, crosses and melts above them, and when he checks his bracer for the readout, the information is mangled into unreadable words. Sehun shakes his wrist as though that will help, but the red _ERROR_ message is hint enough that Junmyeon and Kyungsoo were telling him the truth. 

“Did you bring the book?” Sehun asks. 

“ _Did we bring the book?_ ” Junmyeon scoffs, and he reaches into his pocket, quickly tosses the small book over to him. “You can check it out, but like I said, there really isn’t anything in there.” 

Sehun turns the book over in his hands, and he confirms what they told him, what he already knew. He pets along the front and back cover, the leather soft under his fingers. He flips through the pages, sparse though they are, and finds them empty. He wonders what it could mean, what secrets it might hold along the spine. There are no coincidences here, nothing that means nothing. Everything has to mean something. 

“So we’re back where we started,” Junmyeon says. “Again.” 

“But you know what’s next,” Sehun says. “R-Right? The Devastation that’s next?” 

“Well…” 

“Well what?” Junmyeon stares at the ground, scuffs his boot against the ground. “Junmyeon, _what’s next?_ ”

“Would you be upset if I tell you that I may have lied about my confidence level before?” Junmyeon mutters. “If I said that, _perhaps_ , I may have fibbed a bit? Just a bit?” 

“ _Junmyeon_ ,” Kyungsoo says warningly. 

“Okay, I wouldn’t say _fibbed_ , you’re right,” Junmyeon says, and he holds his hands up in the air in a conciliatory manner. “Let me explain.” 

“Please do,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon stares at him. “It’s kinda hot in here, isn’t it?” He pulls at the collar of his jumpsuit. “I could really go for some wate—” 

“ _Junmyeon_ ,” Sehun stresses. 

“Okay, okay, I just… would you absolutely hate me if I said it was just some educated guesses that lead me towards the order in which we are supposed to attack the Devastations?” 

“Yes,” Sehun says. “I would hate you.” 

“ _No_ ,” Kyungsoo says. “We wouldn’t. Just… just tell us what’s going on. Just keep us in the loop.” 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says. “So, according to the Necronomicon, the next Devastation should make itself… well, it should make itself _known_ to us. We shouldn’t have to go searching for it.” 

“What, we’re just supposed to wait around until something fucking awful happens?” Sehun asks, and he looks over at Kyungsoo. “Are you okay with that?” 

“Do we have much of a choice?” Kyungsoo shrugs. 

“Y—of _course_ we have a choice,” Sehun argues. “We have all the information we need to go attack The Swarm head on.” 

“But the order,” Junmyeon says. 

“Who fucking cares about the order?” Sehun says. “We’re gonna let people die just because we need to know the right cheat code?” 

“You know it isn’t like that,” Junmyeon says. “And doing the right thing is never _easy_.” 

“Yes, it is,” Sehun says. “It is.” 

“Fine,” Junmyeon says, and he folds his arms across his chest. “You wanna be a stupid fucking martyr, be my guest. But I won’t be joining you for an early appointment with death.” 

Sehun wants to say something, feels stupid for what leaps into his head, so he bites his lip, gestures at Kyungsoo. 

Kyungsoo avoids his eyes, looks to the floor. 

“So this is how it is?” Sehun asks. “We wait around for the next tragedy?” 

“That’s life,” Junmyeon says. “Work on your fuckin’ Crystym if you’re so desperate to fight something.” And he raises his brows as he looks at Sehun’s chest. “And try to stay on your feet while you fight those h-grams, hm? Usually, they’re a bit more forgiving than actual atrocities.” 

The implication embeds itself in Sehun’s skin like a plant’s poisonous spines. Sehun storms out of the room, grabs his staff on his way out. He’ll work on it all right. He’ll get it.  
  


♄

  
  
The cabin is empty save for Sehun when Kyungsoo joins him, lessens the emptiness just a touch. Sehun turns over in his bed, turns away from him. He always feels like a child, compared to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo is always in control. Kyungsoo always knows what to do, what to want. 

Kyungsoo sits next to him, Sehun’s body curled up to make room. Kyungsoo rests his hand on Sehun’s calf, and a tremor of _something_ shoots through Sehun’s stomach, makes him want to shy away from his touch. 

“You okay?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“I’m fine.” 

“You didn’t seem okay,” Kyungsoo says. “Did you come back and destroy a reader?” 

Sehun snorts, rolls onto his back, hands covering his eyes. “Do you want me to destroy something?” He peeks through spread fingers. “Is that what you want?” 

“I don’t want anything,” Kyungsoo says, and it should be a lie, but Sehun fears it to be true. “I just hope you can learn to be happy.” 

“W-Why would that matter?” 

Kyungsoo sighs, and Sehun hates that. _What can I do to make you love me more? To make you think of me the way I think of you?_

“Sometimes I think he might be right about you,” Kyungsoo says. “And that scares me.” 

“Him? Junmyeon?” 

“You don’t give yourself any leniency,” Kyungsoo says, and he worries at his bottom lip, pulled between his teeth. 

“ _Leniency_ ,” Sehun says, and he lowers the hands from his face angrily. “W-What, _now_ we’re supposed to take care of ourselves? _Now_ we’re supposed to be in touch with our emotions a-and give ourselves a break? When our whole… when the whole time, they were telling us to push through? To focus our energy?” 

Kyungsoo stares off towards the interior of the cabin, and Sehun studies him. He can feel Kyungsoo’s energy, and there is a vague frustration billowing from him. _I’m sorry_ , Sehun thinks. _I’m sorry that you were named my keeper._

“There has to be a middle ground somewhere,” Kyungsoo whispers. “Some place where you aren’t killing yourself trying to hold things back. Some place where you’re not—” 

“Some place where I’m not… what?” 

Kyungsoo looks at him, and his eyes are deep and warm. He is so human. He is so very human. 

“About to burst,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Do you think I am?” 

“Sometimes,” Kyungsoo confesses. “I worry about you.” 

“I know,” Sehun says. “But you shouldn’t.” 

“You’re my closest friend. It’s the very nature of friendship to worry.” Sehun turns away from Kyungsoo, curls his body small again, and Kyungsoo rests a hand on Sehun’s shoulder. “Come back to the room with me.” 

“I don’t want to see him,” Sehun says. 

“He’s an asshole, but he’s part of us.” Kyungsoo rubs his hand in a circle, and Sehun feels conflicted. “You guys were getting along, weren’t you?” 

“We were.” 

“S-So then… so then let’s go back to that,” Kyungsoo says. “Let’s get along.” 

“I don’t wanna get along with him.” 

“Why not?” 

“H-He’s too—” 

“Too?” 

“He’s too him,” Sehun says. His eyes move against the cabin wall. “About everything.” 

“Different approaches, different perspectives… these are good things,” Kyungsoo lectures, and Sehun wants to say _I know why we form triads. I get it._ “Do you want to win?” 

Sehun looks back over his shoulder, sees Kyungsoo holding him. _I should tell him. I should tell him I love him so that we can go back to friendship sooner rather than later, so that he can let me down gently and I can stop being consumed by this overwhelming guilt._

“Yes,” Sehun says. “I do.” 

“Then suck it up,” Kyungsoo says, voice uncharacteristically hard and jarring. “We’ve got work to do, don’t we?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says, and it laces through him. Fear.

Kyungsoo softens, a smile on his face, and Sehun feels his body relax. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d gone taut. 

“It’ll be okay,” he says gently. “We just have to get through this together. Right?” 

“Right.” 

Kyungsoo stands, and Sehun turns onto his back, watches him for a moment. Kyungsoo pets down the sides of his jumpsuit, smoothing wrinkles that do not exist. He grins at Sehun, and Sehun takes it greedily. 

“Coming back? Or should I give you a minute?” 

“I-I’m coming,” Sehun says, and he pushes himself up off the bed, following where Kyungsoo leads him. He feels even younger than when he first left, scolded and staring at the ground as they walk.  
  


♄

  
  
They go back to the practice room as they wait for some sign that they are being called. They hone their skills, practice charms to keep themselves sharp. It appeals to something in Sehun, that kind of training, and he finds Junmyeon smirking at him like he finds something funny. Sehun doesn’t know what he could possibly be thinking, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. 

Sehun doesn’t care what Junmyeon thinks. He just wants to win. 

“Looking good in that new suit,” Junmyeon comments when Sehun walks in for their morning session. He seems to have beaten Kyungsoo, but not Junmyeon. “How many more commendations do you need?” 

“Five,” Sehun says, “obviously.” 

“Huh.” 

“Huh what?” 

“Just _huh_ ,” Junmyeon smiles. 

Sehun doesn’t find it easy to let things like that go, so he puts down his bag, gently rests his staff against the wall as he pads over to Junmyeon. 

“Huh _what_?” 

“Nothing, nothing, I just… it is interesting,” Junmyeon says, and his hands are raised. 

“What’s so interesting?” 

“Five steps left until you hit Black,” Junmyeon says. “Five Devastations left. Adds up pretty nicely, don’t you think?”

For a moment, it feels like Junmyeon is accusing him of something, so Sehun takes a big step back, putting some distance between their bodies. 

“So?” Sehun says. “It’s a coincidence.” 

Junmyeon just smiles, and Sehun rolls his eyes, turns away. Just as he is about to tap at his bracer, message Kyungsoo asking where he is, Kyungsoo appears at the door, shaking and eyes wide. 

“W-What?” Sehun says. “What’s wrong?” 

“They found someone,” Kyungsoo says, voice trembling. “Someone who survived.” 

“Survived?” Junmyeon says. 

“Survived what?” Sehun asks. 

“Survived _who_ ,” Kyungsoo says. “Dreameaters. That’s what they’re saying. I don’t… I don’t know anything else, I only got the message that we were being called down.” 

“The dreameaters,” Junmyeon says, mouth falling open. “A survivor. Holy shit. A survivor.” He turns to Sehun. “This. This is what we’ve been waiting for. This is the sign. This is where we go from here.” He turns to Kyungsoo, searches for more information. “When do we meet them? Are they on their way?” 

“They sent a shuttle,” Kyungsoo says. “Should be here any minute now.” 

“Well, shit,” Junmyeon says, and he crosses the room, grabs his staff and his bag from the far corner, practically skips back over to the door. “Let’s _go_ , boys! Let’s show them that famous Agency hospitality.” 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes but follows close behind, so Sehun does the same, grabs his staff, and follows too. After all, if they just lost everything, surely they need some comfort to greet them.  
  


♄

  
  
As they stand in the waiting area outside of the hangar, Sehun studies the file that’s handed to them. The girl is young, but not a child. Her face is clean and white, her cheeks red. She has a dazzling smile, and Sehun stares at the picture, trying to imagine that person sad. It isn’t fair, he decides. The world just isn’t fair. 

“Show time,” Junmyeon whispers, standing up, and Sehun closes the file on his reader, sets it on the desk below the window. He looks up, sees the shuttle landing softly. 

He is brought back to his first moments here, stepping off the shuttle. Remembers the way gravity made him feel heavy and slow. He wonders if she’ll join their ranks. Refugees often do. There are teachers in their navy suits, sargeants in maroon, and they all line up along the ship, welcoming the girl. There is a flurry of movement, and Sehun wonders what’s going on. The intake eval? Sehun goes up on his tiptoes to try and look around them, trying to catch a glimpse of her. 

Instead of directing her over towards the waiting room, though, one of the teachers pulls her over towards the shower and medmach units embedded in the walls. 

“Ah, that’s fair,” Junmyeon says, and he sits back down, kicks his feet up on the desk, and closes his eyes. “Wake me up when she’s clean and healthy.” 

Sehun grabs his reader again, and he watches it as it's updated in real time. The pictures. She was gravely injured. She looks so scared. So… so fragile. They could have done something, couldn’t they have? They _should_ have done something. Anything. 

She walks out of the stalls a couple long moments later, and she is dressed in a simple jumpsuit, all white, and Sehun thinks that it suits her as she approaches. 

He studies her as they lead her to the room, and Sehun stares at the differences between then and now. There was a long straight gash on her cheek, deep and scarlet and crying, and now she is perfectly healed. Her eyes were swollen purple and red, but she looks healthy now. Everything except for her gaze. Empty. Like the soul has been drained. 

The door sweeps open, and the teachers work gingerly as they direct her to the chair. Sehun tries to look a bit more understanding. He knows his face has the tendency to rest uncomfortably hard. He wants to soften that, so he moves his brows purposefully, trying to look gentle. 

“Hi,” Junmyeon starts, needs no practice to look soft. He smiles, and Sehun thinks _No wonder he’s a Black suit. He can do anything, be anyone._ “Welcome. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances. My name is Junmyeon, and I’m here to help you.” 

She keeps her head lowered as she speaks to them, doesn’t meet their eyeline. 

“Hi,” she says, and she bites her pink lip between her teeth, grabs the seat of the chair like she’s trying to hang on. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Junmyeon assures her. “It’s all over now, and once we get there, they’ll—”

“Don’t go,” she tells them. “That’s the… that’s the only reason I came. I just wanted to tell you to give up now.” 

“Give up?” Junmyeon turns his head, looks between Kyungsoo and Sehun before turning back to her. “Why would we give up?” 

“It is a lost cause,” she says, and when she chances a glance up, Sehun spots the tears slipping down her cheeks. She quickly looks back down. “There is nothing to do but run.” 

“There’s plenty to do,” Junmyeon says. “I understand that you’ve been through a very traumatic experience, but… but it is our _job_ to deal with these things. It’s our job to protect the universe, far and wide.” He gestures for the reader, and Sehun hurriedly hands it to him. He navigates quickly, looking through the pictures of the carnage, wreckage. “This cannot stand. Don’t you agree?” 

“It’s meaningless,” she says. “There is nothing to be done.” 

“H-How could you say that?” Sehun asks. “They destroyed your entire civilization in an afternoon. They could do this a hundred, a thousand times over.” 

“And they will,” the girl says. “And nothing you or I could do would ever stop them.” 

“But you survived,” Sehun says, and he squeezes his hand into a fist to resist the urge to reach out, touch her on the shoulder in an effort to comfort her. 

“Only because they wanted me to.” She looks at Sehun, and her eyes are full of ghosts. “Because they wanted me to talk to you.” 

“Us?” 

“You,” she says, and she looks down to the ground again before her jaw tenses, before she raises her gaze to meet his again. “They told me your name. They knew what you looked like. They told me where to find you.” She smiles, sticks out her hand, and when she unfurls her fingers, she releases the liminality, crystal white and glimmering. 

Sehun tries to recoil, but liminalties are quick, deadly fast, and it is digging its way into the skin of Sehun’s hand before he can even blink. 

The feeling is excruciating, burning and clawing and _ugly_ and he cries out in pain as he struggles, looking around for his staff. Within another heartbeat, though, Junmyeon unleashes a spell that is bright and loud, a boom of black and red, and both the liminality and the girl fall to the floor, dead in front of them. 

“H-Holy… holy shit,” Sehun breathes, and he looks down at his hand, at the claw and bite marks that leave the surrounding skin ashy white and blood red. “ _Holy shit_.” 

“You’re okay, you’re all right. Just stay calm,” Junmyeon says, and he takes Sehun by the arm, bringing him over to the corner of the room. “Stay there, I’ll get a mini medmach.”

Junmyeon is quick to leave the room, and for some reason, it leaves Sehun feeling cold, feeling alone even though Kyungsoo is right there. Sehun looks at him, sees his eyes blown open with shock, and Sehun wonders if he’s okay. If he’s all right. 

“Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Kyungsoo mutters, and he blinks wetly before he turns to Sehun. Sehun hadn’t realized that he’d said those things out loud. He feels dizzy. He looks down at his hand, sees the wrecked connective tissue of his palm, the gnawed tendons of his fingers. He needs to lie back for a moment. “Here, here.” 

Kyungsoo comes to hold him by the shoulders, and he pulls Sehun back to rest between the split of his legs. Sehun blinks, blinks, the shock running through him viciously as he begins to shake, feeling a layer of ice settle over his limbs. Kyungsoo holds him together as Junmyeon bursts back into the room, huffing as though he was sprinting. 

He sets the little machine down, and the scan is blue over him. He wants to shout _My hand, my hand_ , but as soon as he thinks the words, the scan is over. The numbing agent is injected directly into his skin, and he feels the pain leak out, spilling out easily. The tension falls away, and he relaxes back into Kyungsoo’s arms as the micromachines go to work, suturing the deep fascia back together, stitching him up until he’s good as new, he assumes. He doesn’t feel a thing, just looks up at Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo’s jaw, feeling loose and lovely. 

“Good job,” Junmyeon says, “good job, you’re all done.” 

The micromachines go back to their case, closed behind them, and the whirring sound ceases. Sehun lies there for a few moments more, greedy, but after a moment or two, he sits up, blinks wetly. 

“S-So… so that was bad,” Sehun says. “Not good.” 

“No,” Junmyeon smiles. “Not good.” 

“Those injections really make you dopey, huh?” Kyungsoo says. “Well, I guess this is a rest day.” 

“Yeah, let’s let the boy rest.” 

“The boy,” Sehun says. “Me? Me boy?” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon agrees, patting him on the shoulder. “You boy.” 

They bring him back to his cabin, a strange kind of peace settling over him as he walks, an arm thrown around Junmyeon and Kyungsoo’s necks as they walk. He supposes it must be the medicine, but it works like magic. Junmyeon lays Sehun’s body down into his bed, and Kyungsoo pulls the covers over him. 

“I’m not tired,” Sehun warns them with a smile. 

“That’s okay,” Junmyeon says. “Close your eyes anyway.” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and he shuts his eyes. “Will I get commendations for this?” 

“For sleeping?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Sure,” Junmyeon says. “As many as you want. A hundred commendations.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sehun says. “That’s too many.” 

Junmyeon laughs, and he reaches over, tucks the covers under Sehun’s sides. The action is imbued with warmth, with something Sehun can’t shy away from, and it makes him smile, makes him think of Junmyeon as he falls asleep, dreams that belong somewhere better than this cold, unforgiving place.  
  


♄

  
  
By the time he wakes, it is dark. His head aches, but when he looks down at his hand, he is relieved to find it looking completely fresh and new. There are no signs of trauma. He breathes out, shaky, and he taps at his bracer. Messages Kyungsoo. 

_Can you come meet me?_

The response comes in an instant, like Kyungsoo was still awake even after everyone else has long succumbed to sleep. 

_Yes. Where?_

Sehun quickly drops a pin, an alcove almost exactly halfway between their cabins. He throws the covers off, steps into his boots, and makes his way to wait for Kyungsoo. 

The lights are dimmed in the evening, and it is a haunting sound, his lonely footsteps. He expects to see Kyungsoo approach as he steps into the alcove, into the light of the faraway stars, but Sehun has to wait a few more silent moments before he hears Kyungsoo. Before he sticks his head out and waves. 

“Hey,” Kyungsoo whispers, and he folds his arms across his chest. “Sorry, I… I couldn’t find my shoes.” Sehun feels himself smile, bites it. “How are you feeling?” Kyungsoo asks sleepily. “Okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sehun says. “You don’t need to worry about me, the medmach—”

“I meant… I mean mentally.” 

“O-Oh,” Sehun stutters. “Y-Yeah, I’m good.” 

“Okay.” Kyungsoo looks into his eyes. “If you’re sure.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“We’ve been through a lot recently,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun supposes that in and of itself is an understatement. “We haven’t had much time to… to process.” 

“It’s okay,” Sehun says. 

“Is it?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says, and he reaches out, punches Kyungsoo in the shoulder. “I got you.” 

Kyungsoo smiles, warm and slow, and Sehun lets it drip across the gap between them. 

“Yeah, you do,” Kyungsoo says. “And if… if you ever need to talk, decompress or… or anything, I’m here.” He shakes his head. “You don’t need to… we don’t need to always be _on_ , you know?” 

“I know.” 

“Good.” 

Sehun wants to step forward. Kiss him. Didn’t they once? Didn’t they kiss once before? Frantic and panicked? One spot of joy before the world came crashing down around them? Sehun feels like he must have dreamed it because they’ve never spoken about it. Kyungsoo’s never once mentioned it, but he supposes he hasn’t either. Are they quiet because they are afraid to say the words? Are they both waiting on the other to make the first sound? 

“Why’d you message me?” Kyungsoo wonders. “Couldn’t sleep any longer?” 

Sehun wonders how much of this he invents in his own head. He doesn’t know how much he can trust himself, his own subconscious. So much is left unsaid, but his brain fills in the empty spaces. So much of Kyungsoo is filled in. So much. He colors him in with red, with love. Does it really exist? How much? 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “And I just… I just wanted to see you, I guess.” 

“Here I am.” Kyungsoo smiles and punches Sehun in the shoulder, impossibly gentle. “You’re seeing me.” 

They stand there, and they talk about nothing. And for that, Sehun is grateful. Tomorrow, they’ll have time to discuss clues, leads, the atrocities that search for them, hunger for them. No matter how much is real, how much is artificial, tonight, Sehun has Kyungsoo. Tonight, they have each other.  
  


♄

  
  
In the morning, they meet, briefing Sehun on the information they uncovered when he was asleep. He doesn’t like to be behind them, but Junmyeon always gets excited when he gets to present the information, dragging and dropping effects to make the information stand out, starbursts of glittering light. 

“The Dreameaters,” he says, “are a skating class.” 

“I know,” Sehun says. 

“Can you just let me have this one thing?” Junmyeon asks. “Please, just this _one_?” Sehun holds his hands up as if to say _Fine, just this one._ “Thank you. Now, thanks to information that we harvested from the assassin, we have a pretty comprehensive understanding of how they work.” 

“Oh,” Sehun says, and he furrows his brow, “they pulled—” 

“Recollections,” Kyungsoo says. “We got them just in the knick of time.” 

“That’s good, that’s… that’s lucky,” Sehun says. “So—” 

“So let me do my fucking presentation!” Junmyeon screeches. He turns back to the board, points at the information bulleted below. “Skating class! Gaunt! Creepy! I don’t care for them!” 

“Oh my god.” Sehun rolls his eyes. 

“Enough of the sass, or I’ll sic another liminality on you,” Junmyeon warns. “Interestingly enough, we can’t get a good read on what state they’ve left the planet in… like, the setting is totally wiped. But we can see them. And they look… well, they look like hell.” 

A shuddering image appears before them, a thin figure draped in ghostly white, a strange metal cage wrapped around them like an exoskeleton. Junmyeon rotates the h-gram, but when Sehun tries to spy a face under the hood, he finds nothing. Nothing.

“They derive their power from mind manipulation, so if we’re able to master the blocking, colloquially known as _bubbling_ techniques—”

“Then we should have no trouble,” Sehun says. “Awesome. That seems… almost too easy.” 

“My thoughts exactly,” Junmyeon says. “There will almost certainly be something else waiting for us when we arrive. Something terrible!” 

“Don’t sound so excited about it,” Kyungsoo says. 

“It’s not excitement, but I mean, come on.” Junmyeon gestures broadly. “There’s drama, there’s intrigue, and there’s psychic, telekinetic monsters of the night!” He smiles, hands on his hips. He looks entirely too satisfied. “What more could you want?”  
  


♄

  
  
The blocking techniques are indeed referred to as bubbles, and bubbling takes time to master. There are three steps to the bubbles, and each takes an intense amount of energy, focus, and dedication. The first step, of course, is the Center. The second is the Push. The third is the Hold. Every chance Junmyeon gets, he reminds them how complicated they are. 

“Luckily for the both of you,” Junmyeon says, “I am great at the charms necessary for bubbling. A natural gift, you might say.” 

“Yay,” Sehun grouses. 

“Don’t be rude,” Kyungsoo says, and he holds his staff parallel to his hips in front of his body, before whipping it around in a flourish. “We’re ready to get started.” 

“See, _he’s_ a good student,” Junmyeon says, patting Kyungsoo on the shoulder as he stares at Sehun. “You… you have work to do.” 

“Just teach us the fucking spell, please,” Sehun says. 

“So eager,” Junmyeon comments. “That can be a positive or a negative, depending on how you go about it.” He walks around in a lackadaisical circle on the padded floor, moving to hold his staff across his lower back, casually held in place by his arms. The position pushes his chest out, makes him look proud, and Sehun scowls. “Now… the Center. This is basic agency bullshit.” 

Sehun makes a noise. 

“What,” Junmyeon says, wheeling around with a smile, “got something to say?” Sehun stays quiet. “That’s what I thought. As I was saying, the Center is all about grounding your energy in the center of your body.” He shuts his eyes, looks peaceful. “Gather your energy, positive, negative, and in-between. You are in control of these energies. Energies of black, white, and grey. You drive. You steer. You turn and twist these energies, and you use them for your own purposes.” 

Sehun stares at Junmyeon blankly before turning to Kyungsoo. He has his eyes closed, same as Junmyeon. 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon says, and when Sehun looks at him, he is still standing there peacefully. “Your eyes aren’t closed.” 

Sehun shuts his eyes. 

“Better,” Junmyeon comments. “ _Center_.” 

Sehun tries his best to absorb the material, letting Junmyeon guide him gently through the first phase, but something inside Sehun rebels. He isn’t used to that, of course. He is used to being able to center. To use his energies. Now… now, they elude him. They bounce around inside of him, and he struggles to get a hold of them. 

“Now, once you’ve centered, and everything within you is in the very core of your heart, at the very height, at the _true apex_ , that’s when you slide into phase two. The push.” 

These techniques aren’t high level, but for some reason, they feel much more challenging than he knows they are. Sehun works furiously, the ball of color inside him swirling like a storm. Shaking, he attempts to tell it where to go. _Out,_ he thinks. _Push out._

He thinks something might be happening, tingling warmth in his fingertips, but he doesn’t dare open his eyes to check lest it ruin the moment. Ruin the magic. He focuses, trembles as he focuses, does his level best to rise to Junmyeon’s expectations of him and then exceed those. He thinks he can. No. He knows he can.

A sudden flash of light distracts him, and he opens his eyes, turns to see Kyungsoo with a strong bubble of blue light absorbing him. 

“Good, good!” Junmyeon praises. “Beautiful. God, you… I’ve never seen such a strong bubble on a first attempt. Are you sure this is your first try?” 

Immediately, the bubble’s thick blue light drips to the floor, and Kyungsoo opens his eyes, smiles at them both shyly. 

“I’ve experimented with some projection charms before,” Kyungsoo says, “but nothing of this… magnitude.” He looks to the floor as he smiles. “I’m happy the practice paid off at least.” 

Junmyeon smiles at him before turning to Sehun. “You should try it again. Let me see how strong your projection is.” 

Sehun closes his eyes as he moves straight to the push, a trembling golden light pouring out of his skin. He opens his eyes, furrows his brows as he tries to strengthen it. The extra effort doesn’t help, though. If anything, it recedes in on itself. 

“You’re struggling,” Junmyeon notes. 

“I’m _aware_ ,” Sehun says through gritted teeth, and without another word, the bubble fails, falls to the floor like shattering glass. 

“Just making sure you knew.” 

Junmyeon couples it with a laugh, and Sehun wants to send a malformed Crystym on him, but he knows that it would end up backfiring on him, swallowing him up in the crystalline growth as well. 

“The Hold is obviously the most important part,” Junmyeon says. With seemingly no effort at all, an iridescent, oil slick bubble surrounds Junmyeon before it blips out of existence just as soon as it enters. “See, without the Hold, the spell is useless. It offers no protection if you can’t get your projection to hang on for as long as you need it, right?” He does not wait for an answer. “Right. So let’s try to hold them for as long as we can manage.” He gestures to them. “Give it your best shot, okay? As long as you can hold it. It gets pretty tiring after a while because it’s an energy drain, so… yeah, anyway. Go on. Bubble up, my boys.” 

Sehun turns away from the two of them, finds it much easier to Center while he’s not staring at the two of them. He pushes everything as deep as it can go before he pushes it through his pores, out into reality. When he opens his eyes, it is bright yellow, and he smiles to himself before the bubble zips back in. 

_The Hold_ , he thinks. _That’s what I’ll struggle with._

Distantly, as if the sound is traveling through water, he hears laughter, and when he turns, he sees Junmyeon housed inside the shimmering blue bubble of Kyungsoo’s creation. He is literally on the outside looking in, and Junmyeon runs his hand up Kyungsoo’s arm, talking to him like Kyungsoo isn’t in the middle of learning a high-level skill, like it takes no focus at all. 

Junmyeon glances over, a smirk on his face as he crosses out from the shield, walking over to Sehun. 

“Jealous?” Junmyeon whispers. 

“Shut up.” 

“Well, go on,” Junmyeon says, and he folds his arms across his chest, nodding down at Sehun’s staff. “Give it another try for me.” 

Sehun shuts his eyes. He will do this if it’s the last thing he does. He will succeed. Positive thinking yields positive results, and he focuses on pictures of his own success. Center, and the Push— 

He pushes out a shaking wave from his staff, and it is a pale gold, barely there. He squeezes his eyes shut as soon as he realizes he’s passed the first and second phase, passed the Center and the Push. He focuses on the Hold, struggles to keep himself still as he directs all his energy on the bubble. 

“You’re so… _tense_ ,” Junmyeon comments. “Relax.” 

“If I relax, then it won’t hold.” 

“How do you know?” Sehun opens his eyes, confused, and he looks into Junmyeon’s eyes. “How do you know, huh?”

It is a challenge, and Sehun has learned to expect these challenges, has learned to love them. 

As he opens his mouth to retort, the bubble around him grows, shimmering gold and thick with light. The words fade to a gasp, and shocked, he looks to Junmyeon. He looks back, pride clear on his features, and Sehun’s chest hurts. He doesn’t understand. Why is… why is everything he’s ever learned so _wrong_? Why does Junmyeon always have the answer? 

“You don’t have to follow the same procedure as everyone else, you know,” Junmyeon says. “If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.” 

“It should,” Sehun says, and the bubble waves as Junmyeon steps inside, shielding them both. “It should… it should work.” 

“But it doesn’t,” Junmyeon says, and he smiles. “I’m like you. It didn’t work for me either. So I do it my way.” 

“I… I don’t—”

“I know,” Junmyeon says. “You don’t wanna do it your own way. You wanna be like everyone else.” Sehun looks down, stares at their bootlaces. Feels stupid. “Why do you get upset like that, huh?” 

“I’m not upset.” 

But the hold breaks, the bubble recedes, shatters into a mist of gold. Sehun tenses again, tries to run through the Center, the Push, the Hold, but he can’t manage it. All he can feel is… everything. Too much. He’s always feeling too much. 

“It’s okay to be overwhelmed,” Junmyeon says. “It’s a lot to learn, and there’s a lot riding on this, and it’s fucking normal to be like, _This shit is too much._ Because it is too much. This is too much for any one person.” 

“It shouldn’t be.” Junmyeon rolls his eyes. “What?” 

“Your teachers would be very proud of you,” Junmyeon says, and it still sounds like Junmyeon is taunting him. Like he wants Sehun to stray from the beaten path. Like he wants Sehun to follow him. 

“Thank you,” Sehun answers, but even as he makes his way through the words, the exhaustion begins to take its toll on him. 

“Tired?” 

“No,” Sehun lies. 

Junmyeon smiles at him like he knows, like he can see everything Sehun thinks and everything he means. Sehun doesn’t like that. Sehun wants to be impenetrable. Sehun wants to live in the Hold. 

“When are you gonna start learning from me, huh?” Junmyeon asks, and he steps closer, his presence suffocating as he somehow looms over Sehun from below. “When are you gonna learn to trust me?” 

_I don’t know_ , Sehun thinks. _Maybe never._

Junmyeon turns without another word, goes to Kyungsoo, whispers to him quietly. Sehun wonders what he’s saying, doesn’t even know if he _wants_ to know at this point. 

“We’re done for the day,” Junmyeon says suddenly, and he makes eye contact with Sehun. “Get some rest. Maybe try and relax.” 

“W-What do you mean?” 

“Ent-option, maybe?” Kyungsoo suggests. “Or a reader for pleasure?” 

Junmyeon snorts, and it makes Sehun’s cheeks redden so much that he sees the pink in his field of vision. 

Junmyeon is behind him as they walk, and Sehun feels the heat over his shoulder, tantalizing and dangerous. _What is that?_ Sehun wonders. _Why does he always make me feel like that? Like I’m being hunted?_

He goes back to his cabin, and by the time he sits down on his bed, he is overwhelmed by his own exhaustion. He falls flat to the cushion of the mattress, closes his eyes, feels the energies, black, white, and grey, leak out of him.  
  


♄

  
  
Kyungsoo is the one to suggest it. 

“Interexperience is only one option available to us, of course,” Kyungsoo says. “Interexploration… I think that could be very beneficial in these circumstances.” 

Sehun folds his arms across his chest, hugs himself. 

“What?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“He’s scared,” Junmyeon suggests. 

“I’m not _scared_ ,” Sehun tells him. “I’m not scared of anything like that.” 

“Yeah, you are.” 

“No, I’m _not_.” 

“Yeah, you are, otherwise it would be no big deal,” Junmyeon says, and he turns to Kyungsoo, gives him a big, gaudy thumbs up. “I’m in.” 

Kyungsoo faces Sehun, pushes past Junmyeon. “If it’s too much, if you don’t want to do it, then it doesn’t ma—” 

“I’ll do it,” Sehun says. “I’ll do it, it’s not a big deal.” 

“Seems like a big deal,” Junmyeon mutters, and Sehun angles his body to look around Kyungsoo, glaring at him. “What? I’m just saying.” 

“Then if we’re all on the same page, I’ll schedule it for this afternoon.” 

“This afternoon?” 

“Oh, here we go,” Junmyeon scoffs. 

“This afternoon is _fine_ ,” Sehun says. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter to me.”  
  


♄

  
  
Interexplorations is the technical term, the term that all the teachers, sargeants, and directors use. The agents, they use a different word. 

They call them invasions. 

They sit in a circle in the training room, staves across their laps. 

“Who goes first?” Junmyeon asks. “Should we draw lots, or does someone wanna volunteer?” 

He looks between Kyungsoo and Sehun, and Sehun quickly looks away. 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon says. “Good man. Let’s go.” 

Sehun makes a small noise of distress before he places his staff behind his body, leaves himself as open as he can manage. Interexplorations, the _invasions_ , they were trained to resist them. They had so many classes to prepare for moments like this. Protect the mind. Protect the secrets. Sacrifice everything else. Protect what’s important. 

This should be no different. He’s practiced before. He’s read plenty on the subject. It’s just putting it into use. Putting it into effect. 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says, and he reaches his hand forward, takes Sehun’s left in his right. “Let us in.” 

Junmyeon offers his left hand to Sehun’s right, and with that, the connection is complete. All he has to do is open himself up. 

He shuts his eyes, feels the walls around him plummeting down to the earth. 

_Sehun feels them inside him, feels like them crawling, jittering mites, and he wants to shake their presence from him. It feels abnormal and wrong. Feels like something underneath this skin. He is nothing but thought here, but he can feel them in his physical form. Feel them moving through him._

Don’t resist. _A voice tells him that, warm and rich. Soft and sweet. Sehun will do what the voice tells him._

 _Another voice. A chorus of them, strange._ If you need us to stop, just tell us. __

_Okay, Sehun thinks. Okay. Come inside._

_They move like rain, glittering diamonds sparkling along the inside of his skull. These are silly words, words that mean nothing and evoke nothing. He feels nothing. Emptiness is a mouth, yawning, yearning. Hungry and asleep. He is asleep. A husk. Peeled and laid bare._

_They push inside him, and they start to rip through the files._

_All of Kyungsoo, everything Sehun feels about him is under lock and key, Sehun made sure of it, but he feels something threatening there. Threatening at the secrets. Fingers playing at the memories, at the thoughts he’s ashamed to have had. He hurriedly pushes the intruder away, listens to the taunting little laugh, lithe like a woman’s body or maybe a man’s._

_Sehun frantically tries to get things under control, but it spirals, and soon, the warm, rich voice is skittering through the things that Sehun is most afraid to see again. His greatest failures. His worst moments. All of Kyungsoo comes pouring out, the way his eyes look in the light, pictures of his lips, soft and red._

_And then, suddenly, it is not Kyungsoo at all. The pictures are of someone else. Junmyeon. Pictures of him lying on the quad. In the grass. Eyes staring directly into Sehun’s. The way he gets too close. The way he touches Sehun. His mouth. His eyes. His body. His eyes. His eyes. The pictures flip, flip, flip, and Sehun is powerless to stop this. Lets it happen. Lets the invasion happen._

_The warm voice laughs, and that is what spurs his action. Sehun kicks him, kicks him hard in the chest._

Kicks him so hard that they all fall out of the invasion together, the three of them breathing heavily as they come back to themselves. 

“You are so fucking bad at this,” Junmyeon says. “Like, _so_ bad.” 

“Shut up,” Sehun says. “I was always… I was good at this in my examinations.” 

“Exams ain’t shit, apparently,” Junmyeon comments. “Practical knowledge is more important.” 

“I _have_ practical knowledge.” 

“You clearly don’t,” Junmyeon says. “Do you wanna finally discuss what we should have been discussing a long time ago?” 

“It’s… I don’t need to talk about anything,” Sehun says. “Just fucking drop it.” 

Junmyeon’s eyes scan over Sehun’s body, hot like touch, and suddenly, Junmyeon is back in his head. 

Fingers stroke along where he is most sensitive, and images begin to flit through his mind. Pictures of hands, tense and veined. The long curves of legs. The scooping line of a neck. 

“All right, all right,” Junmyeon smiles, and he closes himself out of Sehun’s mind, smacking Sehun on the knee. “Give it your best shot, champ. Try and figure out all my secrets.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, and he looks at Kyungsoo. Nods. 

He tries to dive in, but all he hits is a stone wall. He looks at Kyungsoo, confused, and then he looks at Junmyeon. 

“See, when you’re _good_ at things…,” Junmyeon trails off, and Sehun leans over to smack him. 

Junmyeon can be annoying, but Sehun is content to learn from someone who has mastered the technique.  
  


♄

  
  
Kyungsoo leaves Third first, and Sehun can barely keep himself together as he watches Junmyeon eat next to him. He reels back his leg, kicks Junmyeon sharply in the calf, and feels rewarded by his yelp of pain. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Junmyeon winces. “You bitch.” 

“What was… what was all that back there during practice?” Sehun asks. “What’s your fucking problem?” 

“Problem?” 

Sehun angles himself closer to Junmyeon over the tabletop. “What the fuck are you trying to do, huh?” He scowls, looks down at his empty tray. “I don’t get you.” 

“What’s not to get? I’m trying to do what’s best for you.” 

It makes Sehun pause, makes him chance a look at Junmyeon’s face. He looks just as genuine as he always does which is to say not genuine at all. 

“What’s _best_ for me? How would you know?” 

“What’s best for you is what’s best for the group,” Junmyeon shrugs. 

“And that is?” 

“To confront things before they get too big to confront,” Junmyeon says. “Or is it your plan to just go through life without ever saying what you’d like to say?” Sehun looks down again, browbeaten, and Junmyeon kicks him gently under the table. “Oh, stop. You look like a homeless wewix. I’m gonna tear up.” 

“Shut up,” Sehun murmurs, but it is through a smile. 

“I’m just saying, the worst that happens with Kyungsoo is that he doesn’t like you the way you like him, and we all move on.” 

Junmyeon observes him casually, like this is just a regular conversation and not the end all, be all. Sehun’s never felt so strongly about anything in his entire life, and that is saying something considering how strongly Sehun feels about… well, _everything_. 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says softly. “I’m scared.” 

“Big fuckin’ deal,” Junmyeon smiles. “You gotta do the scary shit even when it scares you.” 

Sehun goes back to his food, pouting. They spend their lives doing scary shit. Can’t he be afraid of his shadow even _once_?  
  


♄

  
  
They try, try, and try again. Sehun spends more time researching bubble charms than he does on anything else, and Junmyeon assures him that he’s developing a plan for when it comes time to attack. Sehun isn’t sure he believes him. He isn’t sure if any of them know what they’re doing. He thinks it’s all just guessing, educated or not.

“I do think we should move sooner rather than later,” Junmyeon suggests. “The more we wait, the worse it will get.” 

“Because more civilizations will be destroyed?” 

“I don’t think they’re moving,” Junmyeon says. “I think they’re gonna sit and wait for us.” 

“Then why does it matter?” Sehun asks. “We could make them wait forever.” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Why?” Sehun asks, beginning to grow in frustration. “Why not, huh?” 

“Well, look at what we’ve seen from them so far,” Junmyeon says. “They sent an assassin to kill you. Potentially all of us.” He taps his chin with his fingers. “I think the assassination was just a plot to get them in the door. I don’t think they really wanted to kill you yet. I think, ultimately, they knew we would foil the plot. I think they wanted—” 

“This is just you pontificating,” Sehun says. “This is just you trying to connect the dots.” 

“I’ve connected them,” Junmyeon assures him. 

“You haven’t connected shit.” 

“I have natural leadership abilities, I reached Black suit at twenty, I have a masterful command of several ancient techniques of magic, I’ve preserved some dead languages, and you… you are you,” Junymeon smiles. “So which of us do you think the triad should listen to?” 

“Shut up,” Sehun says. “If you gave… if you gave _any_ concrete evidence at all, then I would be more likely to follow you.” 

“Lucky for you and your naturally distrustful ass, I have exactly that,” Junmyeon says before turning to Kyungsoo, gesturing to the both of them. “If you’d both follow me to Room 33, then I believe I could clear everything up for you.” 

Kyungsoo and Sehun share a wordless look before they pick up their belongings and head to the reader room together. 

The walk is silent, somehow tense, and Sehun indulges in that tension, his fingers playing along the bow strung tight. They enter when Junmyeon scans in, Kyungsoo behind him, Sehun pulling up the rear. They are slow, deliberate as they place their things to the ground, as they take their normal seats. Junmyeon stays standing, turns on the screen. 

“I scanned the remains,” Junmyeon says. “I found cameras on the liminality.” 

“W-What remains?” Sehun asks. “There were _remains_?” 

“After you went back to rest, we investigated,” Junmyeon says. “And I found that the eyes were droid-enhanced. The ears were ruined, but I have reason to believe that they were monitoring us.” 

“For what purpose?” Sehun asks. “Just to gain more information on us?” 

“Probably,” Junmyeon says, and then he shrugs. “They wanna know what we’re doing, and, like, skaters aren’t inherently power-hungry. They protect their own. They… they attack when provoked but not like this. Not like this. No, they’re working for someone. Being controlled by someone. They’re working for whoever opened the Necronomicon. I’m sure of it.” 

“How could someone possibly control such… such _powerful_ creatures?” 

“They must be pretty powerful themselves,” Junmyeon shrugs. “So after we deal with the dreameaters, we’re on the hunt.” 

“The hunt for…?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“The hunt for clues,” Junmyeon says. “Anything that can point us towards the boss. The individual in charge.” He breathes in, breathes out sharply before turning to Sehun. “Let’s go.” 

Sehun looks from Junmyeon to Kyungsoo. 

“What?” 

“We’re waiting on you,” Junmyeon says. “Bubbling charms. Let’s get to it.” 

The rest of the afternoon is spent working on the bubbles, and while Sehun ultimately fails to master them, he feels as though he makes good progress which is better than nothing at all.  
  


♄

  
  
Junmyeon is a more hands-on instructor than Sehun’s ever dealt with before, and Sehun doesn’t know what to make of that. He’s also a lot more difficult than Sehun would have assumed, and he finds himself falling short of the objectives for the first time in his life. It is not a fun experience, especially when Junmyeon takes it upon himself to begin preparations for the off-chance that the bubbling charms don’t work against the dreameaters. 

“We don’t need to go to those measures,” Kyungsoo assures Junmyeon. “Sehun is more than capable.” 

The praise makes Sehun’s heart swell, and he brushes his hand against his face to make sure that no lingering heat rises to his cheeks. 

“Hey, I don’t doubt his capability,” Junmyeon begins, but Kyungsoo cuts him off before he can finish. 

“You just doubt his mastery of bubbling.” 

“Exactly,” Junmyeon says happily. “I’m glad you understand.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes. 

“Look, whether you like it or not, we have to make sure we’re prepared,” Junmyeon says. “We don’t want any surprises when we get in there.” 

“I won’t be surprised,” Sehun says. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Is there anything I should know?” Junmyeon gestures to Kyungsoo. “Anything _he_ should know?” 

“Sh—no, of course not,” Sehun says, and he shakes his head. “What are you talking about?” 

“I just don’t want to get there, and they start pushing inside us and all of a sudden, oops, there’s a secret revealed that maybe one of us didn’t want revealed.” 

“There aren’t any secrets between us,” Kyungsoo says, and he looks to Sehun, smiling. “Right?” 

_I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you. I’m in_ love _with you._

“Right.” 

Junmyeon does not look impressed as he looks on. Sehun stays silent, and he feels movement at his side as Kyungsoo looks between them both. 

“This is stupid,” he comments. “We don’t know each other at all.” 

“We know each other,” Sehun argues. 

“Yeah, I think we know each other,” Kyungsoo agrees. 

“We know dumb shit,” Junmyeon says. “We don’t know secrets.” 

“That’s what makes them secrets,” Sehun says. 

“Point,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun smiles. 

“Oh my,” Junmyeon says, and when Sehun looks at him, he is driving his fingertips into his temples angrily. “Oh, my… my, my, my.” 

“What?” 

“We’re fucked,” Junmyeon says. “We’re completely, totally, one thousand percent fucked.” He looks between them. “Shit is going to get so messy, and you two are just—”

“Hey,” Kyungsoo says, and he rests his hand on Junmyeon’s shoulder, conciliatory. “It’s okay.” 

Junmyeon makes a noise of disbelief. “How can you be so calm about this? How can you… not give a shit now?” He shakes his head. “Everyone hated me because I supposedly didn’t give a shit, and now, when I _do_ give _several shits_ , everyone is practicing their fucking peacefulness protocols.” 

Kyungsoo snorts, and it makes Junmyeon smile too, a little break in all the arguing. Sehun looks away, doesn’t want to engage any further in the conversation. Junmyeon has a way of getting things out of him that Sehun would rather not get out. 

“Well, we can talk more about this in the evening session,” Kyungsoo says with a shrug. “It’s not like we’re really getting anywhere. Maybe, I don’t know, we’ll get some fresh air, and come back to the conversation with a new perspective.” 

“Not when Sehun’s here,” Junmyeon mutters. 

Kyungsoo smiles, turns back to Sehun. “You going to Second?” 

“I need to talk to him,” Junmyeon says. “We’ll meet you there.” 

Kyungsoo looks between the two of them, taps at his bracer. “All right, if you’re sure.” He presses the button for the door, and it slides open. “Meet you guys there.” 

The two of them watch him go, watch the door slipping closed behind him. 

Sehun stands, intending to follow him, but Junmyeon wheels around, brows knitting together angrily. 

“You need to tell him,” Junmyeon says, and he is too close for comfort, closing in on Sehun’s space. “It’s not going to go so good for you if we get there, and the fucking dreameaters start spilling all your fucking mushy shit.” 

Sehun knows that, of course, Junmyeon is right. It will not go well for any of them if that information were revealed in those circumstances. It would be a distraction. It could be the death of them. It _would_ be. He knows. He knows it would get out. It’s on the forefront of him. Besides the banality of his work, Kyungsoo is his life. Kyungsoo and the triad. 

But what would happen if Kyungsoo knew? If Kyungsoo knew and didn’t love him back? Or worse… if Kyungsoo knew and simply didn’t care? 

“I’ll tell him,” Sehun says, “I will.” 

“You’re not going to,” Junmyeon accuses. “You’re gonna tell me you told him when you really have no intention of doing so.” 

“Well, who knows if it will actually get out,” Sehun says, waving his hands. “Do I want to… I don’t know _jeopardize_ the mission by revealing potentially damaging information?” 

“Are you fucking listening to yourself?” He waves his hands wildly. “ _Potentially damaging information_? You’re supposed to tell him you have a fucking schoolboy crush on him.” 

“That could be damaging.” He thinks about the repercussions of such a rash action. What if… what if Kyungsoo didn’t want to be his friend anymore? What if he didn’t want to be in the same triad? What… what if he didn’t want anything to _do_ with Sehun anymore? He shakes the thoughts away with a shake of his head. “You don’t get it.” 

“No, I _do_ get it,” Junmyeon says. “I get it a little too much, in fact.” 

“No, you couldn’t possibly understand.” 

“You’re willing to sacrifice this entire thing just to protect your terribly kept secret,” Junmyeon says. “You want to throw galaxies to the fire because you can’t tell a boy you like him?” 

“N-No, that’s not…” 

“That’s exactly what it is,” Junmyeon seethes. “Are you _kidding_?” 

“Stop,” Sehun says. “Come on. I’m…” 

“You’re a fucking coward is what you are.” 

Sehun folds his arms across his chest. “You can’t make me do anything.” 

“It’s your fuckin’ funeral,” Junmyeon shrugs. “Oh, and mine as well. And the man you say you love.” Sehun moves his feet, uncomfortable with the suggestion. The worst part is that Junmyeon is right, and Sehun hates when Junmyeon is right because that means _he’s_ wrong. “Do you finally understand? This is the end. There is no other time. Time ends if we don’t win. Do you fucking get it? You have to confess.” 

“W-What if the bubbles hold?” 

“Oh my _God_ ,” Junmyeon groans, and he takes off towards the door, pausing by the reader before turning back around. “You know what, fine, fine, do whatever the fuck you want. Just… just remember when we take our last breaths that I fucking _told you so_.” 

“That’s your problem,” Sehun says. “You’re too dramatic.” 

He pauses again, hand raised by the reader. He looks over his shoulder, grins madly. 

“Hey, what could be more dramatic than the apocalypse, babe?”  
  


♄

  
  
All they’ve got is time _No_ , he thinks. _That’s not quite right._ They’ve got so little time that it turns around, becomes endless. Time is an ouroboros, and they are slipping through the mouth, running along the tail. They fight, him and Junmyeon. Never… never _serious_ , but towards the end, it starts to feel more serious than when it started. Sehun’s love for Kyungsoo is a distraction, and on more than one occasion, he’s tried to rid himself of it completely. _Maybe it would have been better,_ he thinks, _if Agony had pulled it from me. Maybe then I could be able to focus. Maybe then, the dreameaters wouldn’t have me in the palm of their hands._

Sehun avoids the matter entirely, hoping that by the time they are summoned that he will have forgotten all about his feelings, the way they drip from everything he does. 

He stays up late, wakes early, and he feels like an undead creature, barely moving, barely progressing through his days. He walks with Kyungsoo in the morning after First, and he looks at the other agents, laughing in the quad. They look so light. So happy. Was he ever light? Was he ever happy? 

Of course he was. Sometimes it’s hard to remember those times. Responsibility weighs heavily on him, on him more than others. He thinks of Junmyeon, the way he carries it so easily. If only he could be more like that. If only he could care less. _Be more_ , but _care less._

Kyungsoo is quiet at his side, and they move from outside to in, the air going from pungent artioz to clean, tasteless. They walk through the halls, and people stare at them. 

“You’re getting better,” Kyungsoo says, and he nudges his shoulder against Sehun’s. “Why do you look so distraught?” 

“I’m fine,” Sehun lies. 

“You don’t look so fine.” 

“I’m just… worried about the bubbling, I guess,” Sehun says. “About mastering it. I’ll… I’ll never be great at it, I guess.” 

“You never know,” Kyugsoo says. “You have a way of proving people wrong exactly when you need to.” 

Kyungsoo sees parts of himself that he’ll never see. Sehun feels warmth seep through his blood, dripping down his veins. It’s now or never, he tells himself. Junmyeon was right. He has to do something. He has to say something. He’d rather confess and be rejected than be a coward. He’s never been a coward before. He doesn’t want to start now. 

“I have something important to say.” 

Kyungsoo turns to him, and in a shocking move, he pulls Sehun to a stop, pulls him into an embrace. 

“I know he’s pressuring you,” Kyungsoo says, “and I just want to say… I just wanted to tell you—ah, this is stupid, but Sehun, we’ve been friends for so long. We’ve been… we’ve been together from the start.” He pulls away, looks into Sehun’s eyes. _Oh no_ , Sehun thinks. _You can see right through me._ “There aren’t any secrets between us, no matter what he thinks.” 

“No,” Sehun says, and there, in the harshly lit hallway, he grips the fabric of Kyungsoo’s suit in his hands. “No secrets.” 

Kyungsoo smiles, smiles like it is just another day, like it is just another moment, and he leans in, pulls Sehun down by the collar of his suit. 

The kiss is short, sweet, and Sehun barely closes his eyes, too confused, too shocked. He kisses back as best he can, ends up chasing Kyungsoo as he withdraws. 

Sehun’s mouth opens on a thousand different words: _Do you love me like I love you? Has it been this way all along? What have we been waiting for? Are you scared to lose me? I’m scared to lose you._

“We should wait,” Kyungsoo says, and his hands move, circling around Sehun’s hands. “Until everything is sorted out. Until after.” 

A little piece of Sehun falls to the floor, but it is hard to be anything but overwhelmed with joy in that moment. He nods, squeezes Kyungsoo’s hands in his. It wasn’t a dream, way back when. They’ve kissed twice now, once when the world was ending and once when it was brand new and glowing blue. 

“Walk me to my dorm,” Kyungsoo says, and he holds Sehun’s hand as he pulls him off. 

They walk in silence as they twist through the halls of the building, the quiet building and building in a wave. Sehun’s stomach turns in his body, and his hand sweats in Kyungsoo’s. He feels like a child, like he’s just stepping onto the shuttle. He doesn’t feel his age. He feels transported. He feels… he feels stupid with love. 

Kyungsoo slows to a stop before his cabin, and he leans against the door, smiling up at Sehun. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “See you tomorrow.” 

Kyungsoo’s smile turns sad as his fingers unthread from Sehun’s, as he turns, hand placed against the reader. The door slips open, a hushing sound, and Kyungsoo steps through. Before the door closes, Kyungsoo turns back around, a little smirking smile painting across his lips.   
As soon as Kyungsoo is safely inside, Sehun taps on his bracer, messages Junmyeon. 

_Are you asleep?_

A voice message returns to him, a shrieking little laugh. 

Sehun rolls his eyes, drops a pin. _Meet me at the quad,_ he writes, and he moves, moves to meet the pin.  
  


♄

  
  
When he walks out, Junmyeon is already there, lying under the blanket of stars, hands behind his head. Sehun walks over, still unsure that what just happened _actually_ transpired in reality, and he brushes his lips with his fingertips as he approaches, dazed. 

Junmyeon looks over at him, a look of amusement on his face. 

“Looks like it went well, then,” Junmyeon says. “What did I tell you?” 

“You didn’t tell me anything,” Sehun says, and he lies down next to Junmyeon, staring up at the sky. “I did this all on my own.” 

“Please, if I hadn’t kicked you in the ass, you never would have made a move. _Ever_ ,” Junmyeon laughs. He nudges Sehun’s hand with his. “Proud of you, though.” 

“T-Thanks,” Sehun says. “It was… a long time coming, I guess.” 

“You’re fuckin’ telling me.” 

Sehun smiles. He traces constellations with his eyes, the swirling galaxies dripping like ripe fruit on the branch of a tree. It is a rare moment of complete and total comfort, so Sehun relaxes into it, letting himself unwind next to Junmyeon. He shuts his eyes, content, and he sighs, the back of his hand resting against the back of Junmyeon’s. 

“So, what happened?” Junmyeon whispers. “You guys fuck?” 

Sehun sputters, the quiet moment broken, and he turns onto his side, gawks at Junmyeon. 

“No, what are you talking about?” 

“I mean, you did _something_ , right?” Junmyeon asks, eyes still on the sky above. He turns, grinning. “Or did you just talk about your feelings?” 

“W-We kissed,” Sehun admits. “But he said—oh, this is so stupid.” 

“Come on, don’t keep me waiting,” Junmyeon smiles, and he turns back, the stars painting him black and gold. “I want all the filthy details.” 

“There aren’t _filthy details_ , shut up,” Sehun smiles. “He just said that he wants to talk about it later. After.” 

“A man with commitment issues. Ah, to be young with options.” 

Sehun reaches out to smack Junmyeon lightly, and it makes Junmyeon laugh. They go quiet, quiet like death, and the moment turns sour. Sehun watches the smile on Junmyeon’s face fade, watches him watch the stars like he’s watching the end of the universe. 

“What?” Sehun asks softly. 

“Nothing,” Junmyeon says. 

“Tell me.” 

“There isn’t anything to tell.” 

Sehun falls silent once more, stares at the side of Junmyeon’s face. He was artfully crafted, a little too perfect. _If things were different_ , Sehun thinks, _maybe I would have fallen in love with him instead._

Junmyeon turns just as the words are skimming across Sehun’s brain, and they lock eyes. 

“I hope things go well,” Junmyeon says, and if Sehun’s ever doubted him before, he can’t remember those times then. “Ever thought about potentially speeding the process along with him? You know, banging one out and seeing if that helps our station?” 

The moment quickly ruined, Sehun scowls, looks back to the swirling void of forever that rests everywhere but here. 

“Seriously, though,” Junmyeon smiles. “I mean it. I want you to be happy. I hope you guys… I dunno, I hope things work out.” 

“Thank you,” Sehun says. “I… thank you.” 

Junmyeon smiles with only one side of his mouth, and he balls up his fist to punch Sehun in the shoulder. They lie there for a little while longer, and Sehun basks in possibilities the way he hasn’t been able to since he was young.  
  


♄

  
  
They dance around each other for a while, and Sehun doesn’t know whether that’s good or bad. Everything’s been laid out before them, there aren’t any more secrets, and yet it _feels_ like something’s been held back. Something big and blue. 

Junmyeon corners Sehun at the end of one of their bubbling sessions, and it ends with Junmyeon insistently raising his brows at Sehun. 

“What are you trying to say here?” Sehun asks, trying to make sense of the elaborate eyebrow language Junmyeon apparently expects him to translate. 

“Remember what I said the other night?” Junmyeon says. “Regarding banging?” 

“Oh, just _shut up_ ,” Sehun says. 

“Just saying!” 

“I’m not talking about this,” Sehun assures him. “I will never talk about this, especially not with you.” 

“Just _one little conversation_ about your mutual lust,” Junmyeon whispers. “Wouldn’t that be so nice right about now?” 

Sehun rolls his eyes. 

That must signal some sort of consent because Junmyeon smiles, self-satisfied, and he grabs his staff, tucking it up under one arm. 

“You boys clean up the grams,” Junmyeon winks, and the h-grams disintegrate into light as soon as Kyungsoo turns off the training system, the light zipping back up into the hub in the center of the room. Sehun could not be more ready to fucking kill Junmyeon. “Stay safe!” 

“Safe?” Kyungsoo says, and he turns back to Sehun. “What is he talking about?” 

“Nothing, nothing,” Junmyeon says, voice light. “I’ll be going first!” 

The door slides to allow him to walk through, and Sehun turns, a mild fury in his stomach. Or is it something more like anxiety? 

“He’s weird sometimes,” Kyungsoo shrugs. 

“All the time.” 

They gather their things, and Sehun clears his throat, unable to stop himself. They should talk about it, shouldn’t they? His feelings seem so much larger now that they’re out in the open, now that he can talk about them freely. He’s been thinking about Kyungsoo nonstop, about the future they can have together once everything is dealt with. It is a distracting dream, an addicting one, but who could blame him for looking at Kyungsoo and wanting something more than just this? Something more than just risking their lives? Something more than just protecting the nameless, faceless world while they give endlessly of themselves? 

What if there’s nothing leftover… after? 

Kyungsoo looks at him, quirking a brow. “You okay?” 

“Kyungsoo, I… I just wanted to talk,” Sehun starts. “About the other night.” 

“What about it?” 

Sudden, swimming arousal creeps into Sehun’s stomach as he looks at Kyungsoo, the broad of his shoulder, the slimness of his waist. The red of his lips. They kissed. Sehun wants to kiss him now. 

“I just wanted to… be on the same page,” Sehun says. “As far as… everything was concerned.” 

Kyungsoo flicks his eyes away, and Sehun wants to chase after him even though he hasn’t moved. _Stay with me here. Stay. Please._

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to sink too much thought into these kinds of… frivolous things,” Kyungsoo says. 

“F-Frivolous?” 

“Sehun, I thought I was clear.” 

Sehun feels like his brain has been scrambled, completely and totally out of whack. “I mean, you… you have feelings for me. T-That’s what I got. That’s what I thought we talked about.” 

Kyungsoo breathes out, pushing it out like his breath is causing him trouble. 

“When I said later, I meant… I meant later,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m sorry.” 

“W-What if something goes wrong?” Sehun asks. “What if… what if we don’t—” 

“Hey, don’t… don’t talk like that.” 

Sehun looks at his boots, the shiny material. Stupid tears well in his eyes, and he sniffs them away as the quiet eats them both alive. 

“I love you,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun lets a breath sneak out, one he can’t remember holding. “But I know you. I love you, but you… you let these kinds of things consume you.” He takes Sehun by the chin, looks into his eyes. _What is love_ , Sehun wonders, _if you can’t show it?_ “We can’t let ourselves get distracted by this. We can’t engage with this until there is time for it.” 

Sehun swallows thickly, Kyungsoo’s fingers on his skin, and he moves a step closer, wanting to close the gap between them. _Just once more_. He pleads with his eyes. _Just one more kiss, and I’ll be able to make it through._

“Don’t be like this,” Kyungsoo says quietly. “I know you’re different, I know you’re… you struggle with your emotions, but don’t make it harder for me.” He lets go, steps back. “Do we understand each other?” 

_No._

“Yes,” Sehun says quietly, and he is back in class, replying with the answer he knew, not the one he believed.  
  


♄

  
  
He meets Junmyeon on his way to put his staff back in the compartment, and Junmyeon seems surprised to see him. Sehun ignores the way Junmyeon looks at him, shoves passed as he keys in, sets his staff back where it belongs. 

“No need to resort to violence,” he says cheerily. “Didn’t go well?” 

“Stop sticking your nose in my business,” Sehun says, and he knows he’s being unfair even as the words come leaking out, but he is powerless to stop it now. It’s either this or cry, and he’d rather not embarrass himself like that in front of Junmyeon. 

“It’s my business too,” Junmyeon asserts. “And no offense to the love of your life or anything, but if he could get the staff out of his ass, he would have a lot easier time taking dick.” 

Sehun fumes, resists the immense urge to slam his fist against the metal of the locker. “Don’t you ever get tired of being like this?” The words slip through his teeth, anger like poison in his mouth. 

Junmyeon grabs him by the shoulder, turns him. Challenges him. Looks him dead in the eye. 

“Like what?” 

“ _Pushy_ ,” Sehun says. 

“Someone’s gotta push you,” Junmyeon says, “or else you’ll never get moving.” 

Sehun turns back around, frustrated, but Junmyeon’s hand spins him around again before putting his back against the locker door with a bit more force than his strictly necessary. Sehun’s eyes go wide as it happens, as Junmyeon looks over him like he’s looking at something to devour.

Junmyeon gets a little closer, and the oxygen is so thick in Sehun’s mouth that he almost chokes on it. His back is against the cold wall of the unit, and Sehun stares at his lips, at the slick pink pout. Junmyeon slides his hands over Sehun’s body, over his sides, and he shivers through the affection. It feels… feels so wrong that it’s right. He sucks in a breath, and Junmyeon’s hand comes to cup the underside of his ribcage. Sehun wonders what it would feel like on his naked skin, without the jumpsuits between them. 

Junmyeon steps forward, and he presses them together, their bodies making a thin, near-black line. _Is this what it always feels like? Does it always feel so hot? So stiflingly hot?_

He comes to hold Junmyeon by the face, and he stares into Junmyeon’s eyes, his gaze warm, sweet, too much. Too much. 

“You look good,” Junmyeon whispers, and his hands move, coming to hold Sehun by the jaw. A thumb plays at Sehun’s bottom lip, and Sehun shudders at the touch. “Pretty.” 

Sehun squeezes his eyes shut tight, tries to find his footing as Junmyeon pushes ever closer, an impossibility. It’s when he feels Junmyeon’s breath against his mouth that he opens his eyes, shoves Junmyeon back. His stomach is rolling in waves of worry, and he wants something that he can’t express. 

“What are you doing?” Sehun asks, hands at Junmyeon’s shoulders, holding him back like he’s worried that Junmyeon will try to close back in, the walls tight around them. 

His eyes slide down the side of Sehun’s face, down the column of his neck, and Sehun can almost feel his gaze like fingertips, gentle but insistent. 

“I was trying to kiss you.” Junmyeon looks into Sehun’s eyes, unafraid. Unashamed. “Did you not, like, want me to do that?” 

Sehun’s stomach twists with desire even as he puts Junmyeon against the wall, as he steps back, steps away.

“No,” Sehun says, but even to his own ears, it sounds like a lie. Sounds completely unbelievable. 

_When did this happen? When did I begin to want this?_

“All right,” Junmyeon says, and he smiles. “Sorry about that.” 

“W-Why would you do that?” Sehun asks. “Why would you think I wanted that? Just because—” _of what you saw? In the invasion? The pictures of you I had forgotten I’d taken?_

“Just a vibe.” Junmyeon gestures to Sehun as though a cloud surrounds him. “A feeling. An aura.” 

Sehun turns, folds his arms, and he is desperate to get a handle on things, desperate to quiet the noise inside him. The feelings are fleeting, and they will pass. They will pass. 

“There’s no vibe. No feeling. No aura.” 

“Are you sure?” 

The room is fraught with nervous energy when Sehun turns to face Junmyeon once more, and it comes to a head within him. All of it. Him and Kyungsoo, and Junmyeon. The three of them. What does he feel? Who is he? How is it possible to love two people at once when the feelings are so gargantuan inside of him? 

“You really loved him, didn’t you?” Junmyeon says. “Once.” 

“I still do,” Sehun confesses. 

Confidence wraps around Junmyeon’s neck, and he wears it easily, just as easily as the closed-mouth smile on his face. 

“I get it now. That’s why you’ve always had a little bit of a problem with me,” Junmyeon says. “You love me too.” 

“No,” Sehun says. “No, I don’t.” 

Junmyeon smiles secretly. 

“Okay,” he agrees. “You don’t love me.” He looks at Sehun’s mouth, and Sehun almost steps forward. Almost touches him. “But you want some part of me. Maybe all of me.” 

Sehun closes his eyes and remembers everything they taught him about suppression. _This moment in time is a ball of energy inside you, and you can control it. You can push it away. You can cup it between your hands and squeeze it so tight that, when you’re finished, you will never remember that it existed in the first place._

“Oh, don’t do that,” Junmyeon scolds. “Don’t look so… so _constipated_.” 

His eyes spring open angrily. “Didn’t you say you wanted to kiss me?” 

“Did I say that? Ah. Try and forget about it.” He smiles again, this time showing his perfect teeth. Sehun wonders how many times he’s gotten them replaced. “I didn’t mean it. I’d hate to make things awkward between us.” 

“W—things are awkward now!” Sehun scolds. “You made it awkward! How are we supposed to live and work and fight when I’m going to be thinking about yo—”

“Me kissing you?” Junmyeon taunts. “Put it out of your pretty little head. I guess I was just reading all the signs wrong.” 

“Signs? What signs?” 

Junmyeon folds his arms across his chest like he’s thinking about it. 

“The way you look at me,” Junmyeon says easily. “The way you talk to me.” 

“I talk to you like I’m talking to a fellow agent,” Sehun defends. “Like I’m talking to a member of my triad.” 

“All that stuff about my ey—” 

“Stop,” Sehun says. “Stop, _you_ brought it up. You were the one peeking into things you shouldn’t have been—” 

“I’m just saying,” Junmyeon says. “You seemed into me.” 

“I’m not into anything,” Sehun says, and he walks out of the room, stomping his feet a little harder than is strictly necessary. 

He walks down the hall, walks to the lobby, and walks through the sliding doors to the building. He walks across the quad, hands shaking a little. He balls them into fists, ignores it. 

He goes back to his cabin, and he buries himself beneath his blankets. He shuts his eyes, ignores what Junmyeon said. Ignores what Junmyeon did. Ignores it all, because if he ignores it, surely, _surely_ it will go away.  
  


♄

  
  
For some strange reason, it gets worse. Junmyeon always wants to talk about the three of them, he and Sehun, Sehun and Kyungsoo, probing his curious fingers where they truly do not belong. Sehun keeps telling Junmyeon to drop it, keeps telling him to leave well enough alone, but he teases, pokes fun whenever he gets the chance. He’s almost like a little kid, unable to stop himself from seizing the opportunity when it presents itself. 

Sehun always shoves his shoulder into him, tries to shut him up however he can, and Kyungsoo always stares at them with a cocked brow. Sehun looks back apologetically. 

“We’re not getting much done here,” Kyungsoo says. “Maybe it’ll be better if we try a training session?” 

“That’s a great idea,” Junmyeon says. “We should do that. Tonight. Ooh, midnight rendezvous.” 

“Not… not right now?” 

Sehun looks at Junmyeon who begins to wiggle his eyebrows insistently. 

“Is that a no?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“We’ve got some things to discuss,” Junmyeon says. “You go on. Work on your research or whatever.” 

Kyungsoo looks at Sehun helplessly, and Sehun doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know where to go. He needs… what he _needs_ is to tell Junmyeon to knock it the fuck off and there is no better time than the present. Sehun looks away, breaks the contact with Kyungsoo as quickly as he can. 

“Well, I’ll be in the library,” Kyungsoo says, “just in case anyone wants to join me.” 

Sehun stays where he’s seated, avoiding Kyungsoo’s eyes. It feels like a small betrayal, wanting, no _needing_ to stay by Junmyeon’s side. He wonders if Kyungsoo gives as much thought to it as he does. Wonders if Kyungsoo cares at all. 

“Have fun, nerd,” Junmyeon comments, and Kyungsoo snorts, turning. 

They stare as Kyungsoo walks out of the room, the door shutting tight behind him, and when Sehun looks at Junmyeon, he wears a dirty expression. Sehun hits him. 

“What?” Junmyeon asks. “I’m a human being, and like, you’ve seen him. His ass is a godsend.” He frowns. “Besides, it’s not like we get a ton of opportunities for fraternizing anyway. Are we just supposed to ignore our very human urges?” 

“We’re supposed to be studying,” Sehun says. “Practicing.” 

“You’ve thought about it though, haven’t you?” Junmyeon says. “I mean, you’re in love with him. You’ve been together since you were kids, practically.” 

“It’s not like that,” Sehun argues, and Junmyeon snorts. “What? It isn’t.” 

“You’re pure,” Junmyeon says. 

“No, I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

“I’m _not_ ,” Sehun says. 

“Then you haven’t even once imagined him taking him to your cabin when everyone else is as Second?” Junmyeon suggests, cocking one of his brows before lowering it, like he’s trying to goad Sehun into a fight. “Some storage closet?” 

Sehun feels his face go red at the suggestion, and he turns, tries to think of anything else besides the shifting feeling under his skin. 

“No,” he says. “No, I haven’t.” 

“See,” Junmyeon says. “Pure.” 

“No, I…” 

And Junmyeon raises his brow again, another _come play with me in the space_ , but Sehun resists it. Pulls back. Puts some space between them. 

“What?” Junmyeon asks. “You what?” 

Sehun goes quiet, and he turns away, feels Junmyeon’s eyes along his back like clever hands. He attempts to hide the shudder that wracks through him, but then, Junmyeon’s hand actually comes to rest on Sehun’s shoulder, spins him back around carefully. Sehun keeps his eyes low, doesn’t want to look into Junmyeon’s eyes. He can figure out too much just from a look. Sehun doesn’t like that about him. 

“You’ve never fucked around with anyone before.” His voice is awed, surprised, and Sehun’s stomach drops. “Holy shit, you _haven’t_.” 

“C-Chastity is a core principle in the control of mind, bo—” 

“ _God_ , you’re amazing,” Junmyeon says. “All those fucking lessons, and you memorized each and every one.” 

“Shut up,” Sehun says, and he steps back, another little bit of distance between them. “Don’t… don’t talk down to me like that.” 

“I’m not talking down to you.” Sehun looks at him, sees Junmyeon staring into his eyes like they are connected by red rope. “I think you’re cool.” 

“ _Cool_ ,” Sehun scoffs. “You’re making fun of me because I’m—” 

“Not making fun,” Junmyeon says. “Just surprised.” Junmyeon looks up and down Sehun’s body. “You’re handsome, you know.” 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying,” Junmyeon says, and he holds his hands up like he can’t be blamed for praising Sehun. “I would have thought they would be all over you.” He looks into Sehun’s eyes. Smiles, a tenacious little curve to match all the rest on his body. “Boys. Girls. Everyone in-between. You never had anyone hit on you? Never had any… dalliances?” 

For some strange reason, it makes Sehun feel hot, like he’s overheating, and he takes another step back from Junmyeon, tries to telegraph that he wants this conversation to be over. And he does, doesn’t he? 

He shakes his head. He’s never felt smaller in his entire life, almost like Junmyeon is looming over him. 

“Well,” Junmyeon says, and he too takes a step back, gives Sehun room to breathe, “if you ever need an instructor.” He raises his brows, lewd with suggestion. 

“What, come to you?” Sehun asks, and even as he says it, he is begging himself not to. It gives Junmyeon an in that he doesn’t even need, one he takes just the same. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon smirks. “Come to me.” 

Junmyeon is slow to turn, slow to walk from the room, and Sehun studies the way his hips tilt from side to side as he leaves. He stands there for a few more moments after Junmyeon’s gone, and he can’t seem to make his body go back to normal, plagued with thoughts he’s ashamed to have. 

He does what he always does. He goes for a quick Iso session.  
  


♄

  
  
They have a series of tanks in every building, so he does not need to walk far. He scans in, grabs a room. There are plenty available. He doesn’t see many agents use them. They don’t care for it. Sehun… Sehun likes it, though. He can forget in the tank. 

He strips off his jumpsuit, and he folds it, laying it on the table beside him, before he steps into the Iso Tank. The water is temperature controlled, not hot, not cold. Almost so neutral that it becomes nothing. He lowers himself down, begins to float, and as soon as the door closes around him, the sound is gone, the light is gone. And he is alone.

Sehun shuts his eyes, quiets his mind. Inside the Iso Tank, there is nothing to do, nothing to think about, and he lets himself go, letting everything besides the water fall away. 

The darkness is friendly, and he does not think about anything, does not think about the way Junmyeon makes his stomach hurt, makes his teeth ache, makes him feel like he is weightless, floating. Sehun squeezes his eyes tight, wills the Iso Tank to work the way it always has before. It’s supposed to wipe him completely clean. It is supposed to make him stop thinking. 

_Why isn’t this working?_ , he wonders. _Why am I still thinking of him?_

He lies in the water and forces himself to think of anything besides Junmyeon, anything besides the way Junmyeon is able to get underneath his skin like a fucking liminality. Why does he like the way it makes him feel? Why does he want more of it, always more of it? 

He is dizzy now, imagining Junmyeon’s hand stroking down the column of his neck, fingers skimming along Sehun’s collarbone. He moves his own hand, overwhelmed by the image, and he follows the dream, chases after it with his palm. How would Junmyeon touch him? Surely, he would be confident. Surely, he would touch Sehun like he’d touched someone before. Sehun broils, skin bubbling with heat as his hand slinks down his body, wet, warm, and in the dark, eyes squeezed shut, Sehun can admit it to himself. He wants to discover parts of himself previously unknown, and he wants to do it with Junmyeon. 

It’s never been like this before. He’s never… he’s never had a desire so strong that he couldn’t wash it away in an Iso Tank. It worries him, gives him a sick, churning feeling in his stomach. 

Panic starts to wash over him like warm water, and he opens his eyes, met by total darkness. It is a terrifying feeling, and he raises his hand, places it flat on the tank’s ceiling. He’s going to die, he thinks, he’s going to die inside it. His chest rising and falling hurriedly, his pulse thumping at his neck and behind his eyes, he thinks he can hear the humming of machines, the fluttering of wings. He blinks, terror sitting like ice in his heart, and he starts to suck in air. He’s not getting enough. There won’t be enough. There won’t be enough air for him to survive. 

He starts hammering his hand on the ceiling, trying to shove the tank wall up so that he can escape, but it is caught in place, trapped until the session is over. Scared, frustrated tears fall from the side of his face into the water beneath him, and he lets out a whimpering kind of cry. 

Sehun cradles his arms tight to his body, hugs himself. He closes his eyes again, dreams about Junmyeon’s face. It brings him a strange kind of comfort as he waits for the tank unlock. He imagines Junmyeon’s voice. Imagines Junmyeon whispering in his ear. _It’s okay. It’ll be all right._

Sehun listens to the song of Junmyeon’s voice, ignoring the feeling of hopelessness as it blooms in his chest. Junmyeon would never want him to feel like that. Junmyeon would make him laugh. Junmyeon would find a way to bring hope to an otherwise hopeless situation. Junmyeon would call him an idiot, would shove him playfully, would ask him if he touches himself when all the other agents are out of the cabin, if he plays with himself when he’s alone in the shower machine. He’s stupid, he’s wonderful, he’s _special_ , and Sehun loses himself in the moment as he dreams about Junmyeon. 

He finds himself smiling as the session ends, as the ceiling of the tank raises. He blinks slowly as he stands up from the water, as the winds blow him dry and warm. 

_What a strange isolation session_ , Sehun thinks, figuring that perhaps isolation was never the answer. Perhaps, he was always meant to be with someone. And maybe that someone is Junmyeon.  
  


♄

  
  
He wakes the next morning feeling like he has betrayed Kyungsoo on a catastrophic scale. 

It is such an overwhelming emotion that he can’t seem to displace it using his normal methods, and after such a poor isolation, he thinks that option is out the window as well. He goes through his motions, through the shower machine, through dressing, through all the rest. He picks up his staff, studies the arrowhead. When he thinks of Junmyeon, when they first met, it pulses blue with magic, and Sehun rolls his eyes. He is so fucking stupid. 

How did he manage to get everything he wanted, and then convince himself in the matter of days that it was wrong for him? That he wanted something else all along? Is this what self-destruction is? Is this why they tell agents to focus on the work, to not get involved? Because of the mess? 

Before First, he stops Kyungsoo. Agents file passed them, and Kyungsoo watches them go, huffing. 

“I really wanted to get one of the egg wraps,” Kyungsoo says. “They’re gonna go before we get in there.”

“They’ll make more. We should talk,” Sehun says, and he steps closer to Kyungsoo. “About our relationship.” 

“Sehun, I—,” Kyungsoo shakes his head. “I really don’t want to have these conversations right this instant.” 

Kyungsoo is too good for him, he realizes. Is perfect in every conceivable way. He is an ace, he is the pride of the Agency, and Sehun doesn’t deserve him. He doesn’t deserve someone like Kyungsoo. Someone so pristine. Unmarred. Untempted. 

“Okay,” Sehun says softly. “I’m sorry.” 

Kyungsoo makes a noise as he steps forward, hugging Sehun close. “Don’t be sorry, I just… you get it, right? We should be focusing. We shouldn’t be fucking around with something like this when there’s so much at stake.” 

He is right. He’s right and Sehun _knows_ it. That’s what makes it hurt all the worse. 

_If you let me love you right here and now_ , Sehun thinks, _I would never think about him. I would never let myself dream about anyone else._

He doesn’t know if he’s being entirely honest with himself, but he clings tightly to the affection that Kyungsoo gives him in small doses. He doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to cut himself away from it. He doesn’t know a lot of things. 

“It’ll all be okay,” Kyungsoo promises. “We can talk about it after.” 

Sehun shuts his eyes as Kyungsoo pats him on the back like he’s consoling a child. 

“This is a very touching moment of shunted emotional vulnerability.” 

Sehun opens his eyes to find Junmyeon leaning against the far wall, staring at them with his arms folded across his chest. 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes as he disengages from Sehun, and he walks into the cafeteria without either of them in tow. 

“Why do you do this?” Sehun wonders. “Why do you make every situation I’m in _worse_?” 

Junmyeon stands up straight, holds his arms in perfect right angles. He speaks in a robotic voice, speaks with dead eyes. “I was created for your destruction.” He drops his arms, shoves his hands into his pockets, and smiles. “Just kidding.” 

Sehun huffs as he rubs his hand across his forehead. “I can’t believe I’m even entertaining these ideas.” He gestures towards the cafeteria. “Kyungsoo is right. We should be focusing on the mission.” 

Junmyeon walks over to him, and for some silly reason, Sehun tenses like Junmyeon is about to kiss him. 

“You’re absolutely correct, this petty personal drama is almost certainly what the Agency wanted to avoid,” Junmyeon smiles. “But I don’t know, I kinda like it.” Sehun looks to the ceiling, wonders what kind of creator would bestow a person like this upon him. Stupid and wonderful. Junmyeon must find it funny because he shakes as he laughs, punches Sehun in the shoulder. “You always look like you’re trying to figure out why you’re attracted to me.” 

“I am,” Sehun says plainly. 

“My sense of humor is part of my immeasurable charm,” Junmyeon shrugs. “And also I’m more handsome than anyone you’ve ever seen before.” He pushes past Sehun, speaks over his shoulder. “Come on, I heard they have egg wraps. Don’t wanna miss out.”  
  


♄

  
  
In the end, it was never their choice on when they will be deployed. They get the notice in the evening, and whether they are ready or not, they will depart from the hangar the following morning. 

Panic rises in Sehun’s throat as he realizes that he is _not_ ready, not even close to ready. Junmyeon was right. He’s not close to mastering the bubbling. He’ll fail in the moment. He won’t be able to protect himself from an invasion, and the dreameaters will use him. They’ll infect him. They’ll torture him, and he will break. 

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Junmyeon says, and he has his legs kicked up onto a footrest, ankle crossed over ankle. “You’re so defeatist.” 

“You’re the one who constantly tells me I’m nothing compared to you,” Sehun says. 

“That’s just realism,” Junmyeon smirks, but when he looks over to see Sehun’s face, he softens. “Oh, come on. I’m just messing with you. Humor! Levity! A good night’s sleep! These are the things we need! ” 

“I should practice more,” Sehun says. “Where’s Kyungsoo?” 

“Said he was busy with something,” Junmyeon shrugs. “Don’t bother him. He’s probably, like, chanting.” 

“Chanting?” 

“You know, like, peaceful words. I dunno.” He aims a handsome smile in Sehun’s direction, one that calms Sehun’s nerves. “He seems like he would like peaceful words before this kind of thing.” 

Sehun closes his eyes, tries to imagine what Kyungsoo is doing. Is he resting? Can he put thoughts out of his mind? Does he think about Sehun the way Sehun thinks about him? Or is he able to put those thoughts out of his mind too? 

“You think so fuckin’ loud,” Junmyeon curses. “Does it ever stop with you?” 

“No,” Sehun says, and he tries to manifest a bubble, pushing it out around him, but he struggles. 

Failure seems inevitable, but they have to try.  
  


♄

  
  
The journey is tense and silent, and Sehun supposes they all play a part in it. No one says a word as the ships raise, as they take off, as the system tells them how long the ride will take. Longer than any journey they’ve taken before. Sehun closes his eyes, puts his head back against the headrest as he listens to the sound of their breathing, as he waits. 

Junmyeon clears his throat, and it makes Sehun open his eyes, gazing out upon the universe as it flits by them. Sehun’s heart lightens in his chest as he beholds all the light, all the sound, and a strange calm settles over him as he is pulled through space. 

When they finally land, Sehun closes his eyes, takes one last split second to practice centering himself. 

“Comms on?” Junmyeon asks. “Test, test.” 

It makes Sehun smile. 

“You don’t need to test it,” Sehun says. “It’s on.” 

“Did not think I would need to defend anal-retentive tendencies to you, of all people.” Sehun can hear the smile in Junmyeon’s voice. He bites his lip. “What’s up, you good?” 

“I’m good,” Sehun answers. 

And they all fall silent, just like that. Sehun wonders if he should have been a little more honest. _I’m nervous. I don’t know if we’ll make it out of this one. I don’t know if we’re gonna keep getting lucky._

“Well, no time like the present,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun listens to the pushing of air, the sound of Junmyeon’s capsule unhinging. 

Sehun hits the button, and the dome over him peels back. He grabs his staff from the compartment, and he pushes himself up out of the ship, eyes wide. 

The planet of Genalia is vast, much more so than Sehun believed it to be. And where he thought there might be ruin, decay, muck and grime… he finds none. Instead, the world is lovelier than he could have ever imagined. There is a forest, thick and green, and when he gets out of his ship, they stand on the edge of it, moss underfoot. He turns in wonder. Behind them, there is a large lake of clear water, so clear that when Sehun walks to it, stares down into it, he can see several schools of fish that zip and dance through the water, their scale glittering in the light. He turns back to the ships, and there is a path before them, and it is made of sanded yellow rock. It is edged in small bushes that bear white and yellow flowers, things he thinks he remembers from a memory. _They were called maret flowers, weren’t they?_ He can barely recall them now. 

The vegetation creeps between the rocks, suggesting to Sehun that no one maintains these lands now. 

_How could it have become so different in such little time?_

“There is something strange about this,” Junmyeon says. “Something doesn’t feel quite right.” 

Sehun can only hear the chirping of birds, though he can’t tell from their song what kind they are. It seems too wonderful to be true, and that is often the case. Sehun lets himself live in the dream a little longer before he steps back in front of the path, waves his staff from left to right, and watches the vision of the forest disappear before his very eyes. Left in its wake, there is a sight even better than before. On the ground, there is a fog made from white clouds, alight with sparkling dust. All around them, they are surrounded by beauty, ethereal. Strong looking gates of pearl, iridescent in the sun. Sehun waves his staff again, left to right in the revealing charm, but this time, no illusion falls because of his spell. The white gates stay strong, and Sehun looks around, sees wondrous magic anyway. 

“W-What is their game, huh?” Junmyeon asks. “I mean, before, with the bazaar and the wine, the party and the—”

“Bazaar?” Sehun asks. 

“The illusion, I mean,” Junmyeon says, and he quirks an eyebrow at Sehun like he’s stupid. 

“I didn’t see a bazaar or a… a party or anything,” Sehun says. “I saw… I saw a forest. A lake.” 

“Huh.” He turns to Kyungsoo. “What’d you see?” 

“Home,” Kyungsoo says, and he sounds hollow, empty, a flicker of blue loneliness in his eyes. “I saw home.” 

Junmyeon turns back to the gates, and the three of them stand there at the edge of paradise, on the outside looking in. 

“I guess if we weren’t sure of their powers before, we can be sure now,” Junmyeon smiles. “Either that, or they’ve done their research.” 

“How could they research what we’d _want_ to see without an invasion?” Sehun asks. 

“Can we just have just a single moment of levity, here at the end of the world?” Junmyeon asks. 

“This isn’t the end,” Kyungsoo says. “Not with us here.” 

“See, again,” Junmyeon says. “We need _levity_ , not an action one-liner.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes as he begins to run his hands over the gate. He expects to touch a hard material, but as soon as he lays a hand on it, the gate turns to dust, falls like ashes to the ground. Sehun steps back as he swallows a noise of surprise, and they watch as the fence around paradise collapses slowly. 

“That can’t be good,” Junmyeon whispers. “That does not seem like a good omen.” 

Sehun turns angrily. “What was your first clue?” 

“You’re the one who reached out to touch it!” 

“It’s a gate, what else are you supposed to do with it?” 

“Use some magic, maybe?” Junmyeon asks, furrowing his brow like Sehun is stupid. 

Sehun swallows a noise because Junmyeon is right, and he hates it when that’s the case. 

“Where do you think we’re supposed to go?” Kyungsoo asks. “Are we about to walk right into a trap?” 

“Is there any other way?” Junmyeon asks. “It’s the only way to engage.” 

“We should hang back,” Kyungsoo says. “We should draw them out. They can sense us here, that’s why they had the illusions up.” 

“It’ll only waste time,” Junmyeon says, and he gestures to Sehun with his thumb, “and it’ll make this one crazy.” 

“H-Hey,” Sehun says, vaguely insulted. 

Junmyeon smiles at him, all good cheer and good fun. “Listen, for all we know, they’ve already got us.” 

And just like that, the world goes dark, the light of the world completely gone.  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun wakes, and he is indoors. Inside. He looks around him, hurries to his feet. His staff is gone. _Oh no_ , he thinks. _How did we fuck it up so quickly? Was this the trap all along? Letting us think we had a chance to fight?_

The room is gorgeous, decorated with fresh redblud flowers and art, and Sehun looks around him, trying to find something. A weapon. He grabs a nearby vase, dumps the flowers and water onto the floor, and as soon as they touch the tile, they disappear. He shudders. They’re in his head. Maybe none of this is even real. 

There isn’t anyone in the room besides himself, and there are two doors, one to the north and one to the east. He looks between them, waits for someone to step through. He crowds himself into the corner of the room, vase in his hands like a scared child. 

What would Junmyeon tell him to do? What would Junmyeon say? 

_Think_ , he tells himself. _You’ve gotta think._

He squeezes his eyes shut as he thinks of Junmyeon’s face. He raises a bubble out of nothing, and though it is weak, it’s the first time he’s produced without his staff in hand. He smiles, focuses on the feeling that burns within him whenever he thinks of how mad Junmyeon makes him, how he sputters whenever Junmyeon says something ridiculous. The gold shivers out around him, strengthens, and Sehun gasps, laughs. He did it. He did something he never managed to do before. 

He is strong. He can do this. 

He waits there for something to come to him, and he does not need to wait long. Only a few moments after Sehun wakes, a dreameater appears at the center of the white ceiling. 

From above, the dreameater descends. It is ghostly and strange, a long cloaked figure that is caged in a shiny metal exoskeleton. Tall and gaunt, it crawls over the ceiling, limbs spidering out. 

Sehun steels himself, spine going rod-straight. He tries to focus on the thoughts of Junmyeon, his smile and his voice, the way he infuriates Sehun to the highest degree imaginable, and with every beautiful thought, the bubble grows in size and strength. It is molten, wet gold, shimmering and shining, and Sehun wonders where Junmyeon is now. Wonders if he can feel through Sehun’s shifting energy. Wonders if he’s proud. 

“Your love for him is precious,” the skater breathes, and ice runs down Sehun’s back. “Beautiful, even. _Pure._ ” 

Sehun shivers as he tries to hold, hold, hold. Junmyeon would want him to live. Survive. Stay alive. They… They both would want it of him. Kyungsoo too. 

“He is the spare, even in your thoughts now,” the dreameater says, and it sounds amused, playful. Sehun tries to raise the bubble. “The charms are endearing.” The dreameater raises an easy, ashy hand and makes the bubble melt. “Endearing, but ineffective.” 

Sehun whimpers as the dreameater skates forward, and it reaches out a hand, a hand that looks strangely familiar to Sehun. It pulls the white hood from its head, revealing Minseok’s smiling face. There is blood in his cheeks, red and alive, and his smile looks… looks like yesterday. Sehun feels himself break, just a little bit, but it is enough. The bubble shatters around him, and he gasps as Minseok’s hand comes to clutch him by the throat. 

“Your sentimentality is your greatest weakness,” the dreameater says, and their voice is little more than a hiss, not like Minseok’s at all. “Dreams of the idyllic past plague you.” 

As he gasps for breath, Sehun closes his eyes, but instead of seeing black, he sees fluttering grams of days long gone. The three of them. The old triad. What could have been? What if Minseok was still here?

“ _Yes_ ,” the dreameater hisses. “Yes, what _if_?” 

When Sehun opens his eyes, Junmyeon is standing before him, Junmyeon and Minseok together. He has one moment to behold them next to each other before Minseok’s hands go to Junmyeon’s throat. 

Sehun emits a yelping sort of cry as Minseok bites his lip, thumbs on either side of Junmyeon’s trachea. Sehun tries to move, tries to summon any kind of energy so that he can prevent the scene from unfolding before him, but he is powerless. Only able to watch as Minseok strangles the light from Junmyeon’s eyes. The whites turn red, and he gasps brokenly as he attempts to get Minseok to stop. Furious, frantic tears roll down Sehun’s face, and he stretches out his hand just as Junmyeon raises his own. 

_Let me touch him_ , he thinks. _Just one last time, I want to touch him._

Just like that, the scene fades, and Sehun is released from whatever hold he was in. He collapses to the floor, and he blinks slowly, looking around him. It was… it was the dreameater acting as Minseok, but wasn’t Junmyeon real? Wasn’t he really dying? 

Sehun lets out a wet sob before he dries his face with his sleeve, sucks in air until he’s able to calm the rising and falling of his chest. He looks around, tries to blink away the darkness, but the beautiful room, the lovely art and flowers, it’s all gone. It is replaced by nothing. Nothing, black space. 

As near as he can tell, he is alone in the room, held in captivity, and he searches for a way out of the darkness. He walks, walks, walks, but it is a seemingly endless space. He calls out, shouts into the nothingness, hoping that someone, _anyone_ will hear him. 

Empty, empty space, space so empty it seems full with its own nothingness. Sehun goes dizzy as he looks out onto the expanse of darkness, and if there was a floor, he thinks he would like to sit down, but when he looks below himself, it seems like he is floating, floating in space. Empty space. It is the opposite of stifling, an agoraphobic feeling that swims inside him. There are no corners here, but if there were, they would be open. Open. A mouth. A void. It could swallow him. Swallow him whole. Maybe he is already being eaten. Devoured. _Consumed._

Maybe they will leave him here until he goes insane. Maybe it won’t be a spell, a knife, a laserbullet that kills him. Maybe it will just be the sort of loneliness that builds from your brainstem, the kind that reminds you in the darkest moment that you are alone, have always been alone, and will spend your entire existence in this wide, terrible nothing. 

“You feel as deeply as you think,” the dreameater whispers, and it is breathed against Sehun’s ear. He moans, terror in his mouth. “That’s why you’re here.” 

“W-Wh—” 

“Speak,” the dreameater says. “Speak, for it tastes like your flesh, sweet and bloody. Almost as sweet as antimatter, almost as delicious.” 

The words are visceral, disgusting, horrific, and Sehun’s eyes water as he tries to summon the energy for a spell. 

“I am feasting on you,” the dreameater says. “I will take my precious time to enjoy it. You’re mine to consume, and if I am to stay, I will take my time with you.” 

“N-No,” Sehun tries to say, but the words are kissed away, the mouth of the eater dripping white. Sehun tries to push away, but he is frozen, held against the body of nothing. 

_It’s not real_ , he remembers. _This isn’t real. This is a dream. They are controlling my thoughts, but my thoughts are mine to control._

The creature hisses, wrenching away from Sehun, and he realizes that must be the key for the fight. Not the protection. The thoughts themselves. Freedom. Peace of mind. 

“Ah, I can hear your hope,” the dreameater says. “It is just as useless as the charms. Our power is whole and unstoppable. You are just as foolish as we were told.” 

“T-Told by who?” 

“The woman,” the dreameater says, and Sehun is instantly transported back to Irilia, Agony’s nail in his chest. “The pain is blistering even in memory. Yes, even in recollection, I could eat for a year.” Sehun stares into the hole of its face, the space where a face should be. “Oh, you are sumptuous.” 

Sehun grimaces as he is thrown back to the memory of her, writhing in pain as he marched closer and closer towards imminent death. But it was not imminent. Not really. He survived that, and he will survive this too. 

“Do you believe it truly?” the dreameater asks. “Do you believe you will escape this place?” It shakes its head side to side. “No. No, this will be your tomb. From now until the end of time, you will rest here.” 

“K-Keep me alive,” Sehun stutters. “Please. Y-You said it yourself, you could feast for a year.” 

“This is not the way of things,” the dreameater says. “ _You_ are meant to die, and so you must.” 

The thing descends upon him, swoops down like it’s skating across ice, and Sehun moves quickly. Knows exactly what to do. He doesn’t need a staff for this. He doesn’t need a staff at all, he doesn’t think. Not anymore. Not now. He hopes he’s right. He hopes he can do it. He’s never tried. 

_Believe_ , he tells himself. _Think of Junmyeon. Think of what he’ll say when he sees you, alive and well._

Magic pouring from his hands, he hits the dreameater with a killing spell, bullets of magic piercing the exoskeleton. Hundreds and hundreds of wounds open, and from the wounds pours light, pure light. Sehun squeezes his eyes shut to protect himself from the glare, and he sends a furious gale of wind to throw the creature backwards. 

It lands with a deafening, mortal _thump_ on the floor, and Sehun lies there in shock for several moments before scrambling to his feet, going to check. He prepares himself for the eventuality of it bursting back to life, raising from the astral plane to torment him once more, but as he stands over it, he watches it shudder dead. Frantically, he tries to grab the metalwork of the exoskeleton, but every piece he touches turns to light, disappearing into the ether. 

“W-Where are they?” he asks. “Where have they gone?” 

The dreameater lies there, twitching with the scattered remnants of life, and before Sehun can get any answers, before he can even ask another question, the creature’s atoms disperse, rejoining the universe. He feels a scream rising in his throat, the frustration building within him, and he looks around, looks around at the nothingness, searching for a way out. 

How can you escape nothing? Nothing is the only constant in this place. The absence. The anti-matter. 

He tries to think. Stomps his foot on the floor. It is a dark, endless space, but the ground is solid underfoot. What is this place? Did they design it just to… just to hold the three of them? He focuses on a revealing charm, but even once he’s able to cast it, nothing falls away. This is real. And he is trapped. 

He’s got no good options, and the only thing he can think of is the Crystym, the blooming crystals. Would they trace the way he needs to go? Or is he truly on his own, encased in his tomb? Would he sign himself over to an earlier death if he cast that particular spell with no way to stop it? He can’t stay here any longer. He knows he’d go insane. 

He’d rather take matters into his own hands, control his own destiny. He doesn’t want to wait around to die. 

Sehun focuses all his energy on the massive spell, lets it build and boil inside him. He thinks of Junmyeon, thinks of Kyungsoo, thinks of what they’ll do once this is all over. _Something beautiful_ , he tells himself. _We’ll go somewhere good._

The crystals shoot from his hands in jets of ice blue, and they sprout over the floor, consuming the seemingly limitless space. They creep and crawl over the ground, and soon, they begin to eat the walls, the black walls that stretch high in the air. Sehun’s mouth falls open as he runs forward, watching the crystals eat away at the empty space. 

He follows the trail, careful not to get too close to the ravenous rock, but soon the crystals turn, begin to eat through a wall of darkness, and Sehun watches as they pull the wall to the ground. 

It’s then that he sees Junmyeon, his staff aimed at a dreameater’s head. Their eyes meet just as Junmyeon’s spell obliterates the dreameater into light, the blinding white energy screaming out. The crystals creep into the room, hungry, but Junmyeon quickly puts a stop to them, effortless and cool.

The crystals disintegrate, and Sehun stares at him wide-eyed, shocked that his plan actually worked, that it didn’t eat him alive. 

For a moment, they just stand there, staring at each other, and Sehun’s eyes water as he realizes just how badly it could have gone. What was he thinking? Have the dreameaters gotten into his bones? Why didn’t he think of the consequences of his actions? It could have killed him. He could have died, he could have— 

“That was fucking dangerous, huh?”

Sehun bites his lip, a tear falling from the corner of his eye. “Y-Yeah, I’m sorry. I don’t kn—” 

“Good thinking,” Junmyeon smiles. “Even if it was a little reckless..” 

Sehun runs to him, throws his arms around Junmyeon’s body and hoists him into the air. It shocks a laugh out of Junmyeon, and Sehun turns them both in a circle, overjoyed. 

“Okay, okay,” Junmyeon says, “put me down, you fucking animal. You make one good move, I praise you, and you turn into a different person.” 

Sehun slowly sets Junmyeon down, and Junmyeon straightens his jumpsuit. The pride sits along Sehun easily, and he stands up a little bit straighter as he tries to collect his thoughts. 

“Come on,” he says. “We should find Kyungsoo.” 

“He’s here somewhere,” Junmyeon says, and he closes his eyes. “I can feel his spirit. He’s close. Close your eyes. You can feel him too.” 

Sehun obeys, lets his eyes flutter shut, and he tries to search the universe for Kyungsoo’s calling. He hears a choir, a dozen or more voices, and they all come from one direction. He turns to face it, opens his eyes, and suddenly, there is a door. 

“W-Was that there when I closed my eyes?” Sehun asks. 

Junmyeon laughs. “No, I don’t think it was.” Out of Sehun’s peripherals, he sees Junmyeon shake his head. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”

They walk through the doorway, and they are in a hall, a grand hall that is pristinely decorated. Art and flowers. Sehun gazes up in wonder, and they follow the winding corridor down, down, down. The lights dim as they move, and Sehun looks over at Junmyeon, staff in hand. 

“Did it hurt you?” Sehun asks. 

“Nah,” Junmyeon says. “It tried.” 

Sehun stares down at his feet. “Your bubble worked?” 

Junmyeon shoves his shoulder into Sehun’s. “Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Sehun looks up, meets his eye. “You did good. You did really good.” Sehun feels his mouth twitch, and he keeps moving. “Where’d your staff go?” 

“They must have taken it,” Sehun says. “I don’t know.” 

“How’d you cast?” 

“Just… focused, I guess.” 

Sehun feels Junmyeon’s eyes on him, only looks over after a moment’s pause. Junmyeon is looking at him with a delighted expression on his face, like he can’t quite believe what Sehun’s said. 

“You did?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. 

“Even the Crystym?” 

“Yeah.” 

Junmyeon bumps his shoulder into Sehun’s. “Big leagues.” 

“I’ve done it before,” Sehun argues. 

“Something as big as a Crystym? A killing curse?” Sehun stays quiet. “That’s what I thought.” 

Sehun bites his lip, happy, but they come upon a fork in the hall, so the happiness does not last long. Two paths diverge in front of them. Sehun looks to Junmyeon. 

“What?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Where should we go?” 

“Well, how should I know?” 

“I didn’t mean i—never mind,” Sehun says. “We should figure this out.” 

“There’s nothing to figure,” Junmyeon says, and he nods to the left passage. “You go left, I go right.” He tosses his staff to Sehun, forcing him to react fast in order to keep it from falling. Sehun stares at it, the rainbow light of the rainstone at the head, the gold of the body. “Okay, you take that. Use it if you need to. We’ll find him, okay?” 

“You shouldn’t give me your staff.” 

Junmyeon smiles handsomely. “It’s more for decoration at this point anyway.” He balls his fist, shoves it into Sehun’s shoulder. “You need it more than me, I think.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says, but the fear still manages to grip him by the throat, staring down at the empty hall with nothing but Junmyeon’s staff in hand. 

“Hey.” Sehun looks back at him, sees the encouraging smile on his face. “It’ll be okay. We got this.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun tells himself, breathing out with a nod. “We got this.” 

“Get moving,” Junmyeon smiles. “Time to find our boy.” 

Sehun doesn’t know what horrors might await them in the middle of the twisting labyrinth, but he journeys forward with Junmyeon’s words of encouragement. 

At first, he can still hear Junmyeon on the other side of the wall, but as he continues to move, feet carrying him quickly, he loses him. He checks the comms, and he is answered with static. 

Furious, he keeps moving, using Junmyeon’s staff to light his way. The rainstone sprays iridescent light everywhere. It is beautiful, distractingly beautiful. Sehun shuts his eyes as he lets the staff carry him forward. He opens his eyes to see another split in the way, and he listens to his heart, chooses to veer to the left with no real reason. 

He keeps choosing, keeps making decisions based on nothing more than intuition. He thinks he’s getting somewhere, he _must_ be getting somewhere, he tells himself. He runs into corners, turns, turns again. He feels like he’s been walking forever by the time he ends up back where he started, in the room where Junmyeon left him. 

Sehun can hear him, can hear him through the walls. There is a terrible sound, a deafening sound. Kyungsoo’s cries of pain. 

It does not take more than that. Sehun takes to a sprint, running towards the sound as best he can. Panic beats in his ears, and he has to come to a dead stop just to rest his hands on the wall, trying to hear past the blood, listening for Kyungsoo’s voice. 

_Sehun_ , he hears distantly. _Sehun._

Sehun huffs, chest working as he takes off towards the sound. He is dizzy with all of the movement, and he blinks the haze of sweat from his eyes as they burn. 

They are luring him, he realizes, but he lets himself be led, a hook through a skimmer’s stomach. He runs, runs, moves as quickly as he can towards the growing sound of Kyungsoo’s voice, his own name on Kyungsoo’s dying lips. 

_I will not lose him_ , he thinks. _I will not lose another._

_Foolish,_ the dreameater says, but the voice is inside his head, taunting and cruel. _Silly boy._

Sehun slows to a stop, his breathing harsh and razor-edged as he stands there, searching the labyrinth. The walls are high, so high, and Sehun could wander aimlessly for the rest of his life if he doesn’t think, think _smart_. He wonders if they’ve gotten to Junmyeon, wonders what he’s doing. What he would tell Sehun to do in this circumstance. 

Suddenly, from one blink to the next, he is right back where he began. He looks up at the ceiling, looks around at the hall. It is so strange, so funny and strange. Sehun spins, turns to look for another path, but by the time he is facing front once more, Junmyeon is right there beside him again. He breathes out, somehow _relieved_. He hates to say it, but he feels much more comfortable with Junmyeon at his side. 

“Fuck,” Junmyeon smiles. “We weren’t moving. They’re… they’re making us see things.” Sehun stares at him. Is this really him? Is this really Junmyeon? As if he can hear Sehun’s thoughts, Junmyeon cocks an eyebrow. “What was the first thing I said to you?” 

“W-What?” 

“I’m gonna see if it’s really you,” Junmyeon says. “What was the first thing I said to you?” 

“Y-You said my number,” Sehun stutters. “Ninety four.” 

Junmyeon’s shoulders slump a little. “Okay. It’s you.” He gestures between them. “Go on. Ask me something only I would know.” 

Sehun’s head races with possibilities. What do you ask the person who knows you inside and out, regardless if you want them to? 

“W-What did you try to do?” Sehun asks. “Last time we were alone.” 

Junmyeon’s face turns to a smirk. “That wasn’t the last time we were alone, and you know it.” 

Sehun’s face heats, and he turns to the side. “It’s you.” 

Junmyeon smiles like they aren’t in the middle of a mind maze, like they aren’t at the edge of destruction. It makes Sehun forget for a moment. It makes it easier. A little better. 

“Bubble,” Junmyeon says. “Maybe, between the two of us, we can get them out. Let’s stick together.” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and his eyes water as he tenses Junmyeon’s staff in his hand, the rainstone sending brilliant light all throughout the small room. The small gold bubble melts into Junmyeon’s, oily black and beautiful. Curiously, it feels like a kiss, Junmyeon standing so close, their heads empty except for each other. 

The world falls, the luxurious halls dropped, crumbling. What remains is a world of desolation, soft black stone. Large walls tower over them, and when Sehun brings his hand to the wall. He thinks he could crumble it. Put his foot through it. When he withdraws, he stares at his palm, stained black. He stares up at the sky. Sees stars. 

“I think we got them out,” Junmyeon smiles, and he whips his head to the side, stares at Sehun. “Look, the power of love!” 

Sehun sputters, and Junmyeon laughs, high and bright. 

“Use the staff,” Junmyeon says. “Send a spell. See what happens.” 

“That’s reckless,” Sehun says. “We don’t know what kind of magic they have. What protections they have up.” 

Junmyeon rolls his eyes, waves his hand. 

He sends a fury of fire down the inky black hallway, and it bounces off the walls, down, down, down. 

“This is crazy,” Junmyeon says. “It’s like… it’s like they’re not even fighting. We’re just… trapped.” 

“T-The dreameater that held me,” Sehun stutters. “I-It said that it could feast for a year… but I had to die. It stressed… it stressed the _me_ part.” 

Junmyeon groans. “Why did you not tell me that earlier?” 

“Well, I didn’t know it was pertinent information,” Sehun says, and he twists Junmyeon’s staff in his hand nervously. “W-What did they mean?” 

“I dunno,” Junmyeon says, and he looks up to the open sky. “Mine didn’t get the chance to speak.” 

He doesn’t know how long the two of them can possibly last like this, huddled up close, the bubble around them overwhelmingly black. He looks up. Above his head is shining gold, but that’s about the only spot. Junmyeon is carrying them. Junmyeon is ensuring his survival, yet again. 

Sehun wants to reach his level someday, wants to be able to protect the people he cares about. He realizes that Junmyeon has wormed his way into that circle, becoming someone that Sehun loves, cares about, wants to protect. 

They walk an endless hallway, the slick black stone at their sides, threatening and claustrophobia-inducing. Sehun tries to keep the fear out of him, but he thoughtlessly moves closer to Junmyeon as they go down an eternity, trying to find its mouth. 

“This isn’t working,” Junmyeon says. 

“What was your first clue?” Sehun bitches. 

“There must be some way to figure out where we have to go,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun looks over, sees the wheels turning in his head. “There must be some way to overcome this.” 

“Worse comes to worst,” Sehun smiles, “we always have the Crystym.” 

Junmyeon snorts, and they think. Think. Think. 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon says suddenly. “Sehun, what else did the dreameater say to you?”

“Uh, it… it didn’t say much, it mostly… showed me things,” Sehun says, and a little shiver runs down his back at the memory. 

“What did it show you?” 

“I don’t really wanna relive it right now,” Sehun says, and he hugs the staff close to him, a warmth radiating from the rainstone. 

“You have to,” Junmyeon says, and he takes him by the arm, squeezes Sehun’s bicep. “Come on. Trust me.” 

“Shut up,” Sehun says. “Don’t be mean. I… I trust you.” 

“I’m not being _mea_ —you know what, if you don’t wanna save Kyungsoo, then _fine_ , let’s just wander for the rest of our natural born lives. Or, potentially, I can watch as you’re murdered in front of me! That would be cheerful.” 

“F-Fine,” Sehun says, rolling his eyes, and he tries to replay it in his head. The vision of Minseok, Junmyeon, their hands. Blood in eyes. It’s ugly. He hates seeing it. 

His eyes water, and he dives deeper into the memory, into the horrible vision. He doesn’t know what the point is, but then, out of nowhere, Junmyeon drops the bubble around them. 

He is only able to make an aborted sound before dreameaters descend upon him. His field of vision is clouded with darkness, he cannot see anything except for their metal, chrome and shiny. 

“You must die,” the dreameater says, and its voice sounds so familiar, so shockingly familiar. Like something out of a dream. “Not now, but at the correct time, and you will lay down your life in order to see the true king rise.” 

Sehun blinks, tears spilling out the corners of his eyes, and he sees Kyungsoo with a bloodied mouth, bones twisted and cracked. 

_Push back_ , says a voice, and it sounds like Junmyeon. _Fight back. You are strong enough. You are stronger than you think._

Sehun gasps for breath as he tries to follow the command. He pushes back with all of his might, traveling across galaxies as he traces his fingers back along the thread. At first, all he hears is a chorus of voices, singing beautifully. Individual voices, ones that ring out, some of them sound familiar, though he cannot place the names or where he knows them from. 

He keeps pushing through the sound, and he sees something. He sees… he sees a door. He sees a door made of black stone, a door with a gleaming silver handle. He drives towards it, puts all of himself behind the thrust of energy, and then… then he is falling back into his own body. He shudders. Eyes closed. 

When he opens his eyes, the dreameaters are dead on the floor. His mouth falls open, wondering how it happened. He looks up, and there it is. The door. It has one silver handle, glowing like moondust. 

“W-What just happened?” 

“Psychic link,” Junmyeon whispers. “That's... that's some high level shit you just pulled.” 

“What are you fuckin—”

“Any invasion can be inverted,” Junmyeon says. “They don’t teach you that. They only teach you to defend against it, but… sometimes the best defense is a good offense.” 

Sehun breathes out again, fractured and stuttered in a heaving chest. He hadn’t realized just how much energy it would consume, and now, he struggles to stand up straight. 

“Come on,” Junmyeon says. “Let’s see if you did it.” 

Sehun steps forward, hand on the silver knob, and he twists it carefully, unsure of what might be on the other side. _Let it be him_ , he thinks. _Let him be alive. Let him be well._

He swings the door open suddenly, and Junmyeon bursts through, hands raised. 

“Good to see you,” he laughs. 

Sehun steps inside. 

The room is dark, empty. But there he is. There he is, alive and well. 

Kyungsoo is sitting in the middle of the room, cross-legged and he looks up, dazed. Sehun moves, kneels in front of him. He takes Kyungsoo’s face in his hands. 

“What’s wrong?” Sehun asks. “Are you all right?” 

“I’m okay,” Kyungsoo whispers. “I’m fine.” 

“What happened?” Junmyeon asks, and Sehun turns, finds Junmyeon right behind him. “Did they hurt you at all?” 

“No,” Kyungsoo says softly. “They didn’t.” He shuts his eyes. “I’m just… I’m tired.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, and his throat is tight with emotion. “I’m tired too.” 

“We gotta find out how many more there are,” Junmyeon says. “If we beat them, we’re free. If we win, then we’re as good as home.” 

Sehun shuts his eyes. “Okay.” He looks back towards the open door. “I don’t know… I don’t know how much more I can take of that.” 

“Of the link?” Junmyeon says. “No worries. I got it.” 

Junmyeon shuts his eyes, and Sehun helps Kyungsoo to his feet, using their staves like crutches. They both gasp as three dreameaters swarm Junmyeon, black and silver and grey and white, and they die just as quickly as they descended, ash on the floor, seeping into the black stone. Junmyeon opens his eyes, points towards the door. 

“Follow me,” Junmyeon commands, and the triad leaves through the door that they entered. 

Directly across from them, there is a grand set of double doors, engraved with strange markings the likes of which Sehun has never encountered before. Junmyeon waves a hand, a revealing spell, but it elucidates nothing. The magic has been wiped clean. He grabs one of the silver handles, and he pulls it open. 

The planet is black, black stone, and Sehun kneels down, brushing his fingertips against it. His touch comes away black, ashy and black, and he stands back up, looks around. 

“Where are they?” Sehun asks quietly. “Aren’t they coming to fight?” 

“They’re scared,” Junmyeon says. “They don’t want to fight.” 

“What makes you say that?” Kyungsoo asks. “W-What’s going on?” 

“They’re coming now,” Junmyeon whispers. “I can feel it.” 

From the ether, they rise like an army, an army of broken men. Sehun stares at them, the wall of them, and he turns. They are enclosed, the circle of them unending. How many are there? How can they possibly kill all of them? 

“Just wait,” Junmyeon says. “Just wait, they…” 

And one of the dreameaters skates forward, descending upon Junmyeon like it intends to kill him. Sehun raises the staff, the rainstone glittering in deep, dark space, but he need not worry. 

Junmyeon reaches out his hand, grabs the neck of the creature. Its white hood falls, revealing a wrinkled grey face with no eyes, no nose, no ears, only a giant white mouth, splitting its face in two. Sehun gasps, horrified, and as he looks around, all of the hoods of the dreameaters fall. Their faces are all identical, terrifying and ugly, and they whimper in pain. It is a terrible sight, a terrible sound, and Sehun winces. 

Junmyeon does not say a word as he holds the dreameater in the air by its long throat. He plunges his second hand into the dreameater’s chest, in between the rungs of the exoskeleton, and the army groans. It rings out into the night, and Sehun stares in awe, in horror. 

Junmyeon pulls out the heart, or what Sehun thinks _must_ be the heart, a jewel of blue-black. It clatters to the black stone at their feet. And the dreameaters, the whole army of them, begin to die. 

“Thank you,” it whispers. 

Without another breath, the dreameater moans, a low-pitched sound that sounds like a dozen voices at once, and suddenly its body, the bodies of its compatriots, all of the skeletal cloaks shatter into a million fragments. Junmyeon is quick with a charm to protect the three of them from the shrapnel of metallic bone, and he curls his arm around Sehun’s body as the three of them close their eyes reflexively. 

And then, Sehun hears it. Their song. 

One lone voice emerges from the chorus of chiming pain, and it sings higher than all the rest, more peaceful, lovelier. It is a soft, tenuous voice, and Sehun finds himself opening his eyes in wonder to watch as a black smoke rises from the explosion. 

The smoke speaks as it curls, the fingers dancing through the air. 

_We are merely a hand of the god that opens the book, turns the pages,_ the smoke sings. _But the destruction will not stop until that god is closed back within the pages, the machinations of his clock ceased. Until one is split from the many, until the words are said. Until the words are said._ Until the words are sa—” 

It blips out of existence, zapped from space as if by remote control, and Sehun’s mouth hangs open as he tries to comprehend the words, tries to fit them into what they know. What words need to be said?

Junmyeon whips his head around furiously, elated. 

“They themselves…,” Junmyeon says, “they were being controlled remotely.” He shakes his head in disbelief, an open-mouthed smile spreading. “Hurry, look.” 

“Look for what?” Sehun asks. “What are we looking for?” 

“The fucking guy, the fucking _thing_ ,” Junmyeon scrambles, and he grabs his staff from Sehun’s hands, waving it side to side like he’s signaling for help. “Oh, come on. This isn’t fair. We were so close. We didn’t know!” 

“What’s happening?” Kyungsoo asks flatly. 

“If they were being controlled, then we could scan for the signal and trace it back to where it came from,” Junmyeon says, and he throws his head back in frustration. “Ah, I’m gonna kill myself.” 

“That’s not funny,” Sehun says. 

“Of course not, of course not,” Junmyeon says, and he whirls around, insane, and then he turns back to Sehun, frowning. “I think we missed our window of opportunity, so to speak.” 

“Yeah, I think so,” Sehun smiles. “But now we… have something more concrete, don’t we?” Sehun turns to Kyungsoo. “Can you play it back?” 

Kyungsoo touches his collar with a smile, and the hauntingly beautiful voice of the dreameater seeps out, the words clear as day. 

“Okay, okay,” Junmyeon says. “Fine. We got _something_. It’s not a total loss.” 

“Oh, come on,” Sehun says. “We’re one step closer!” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says, and he holds up seven fingers, ticking down three. “Four to go.” 

“This is neverending. F-Fuck, we should have known, they… they don’t provoke,” Junmyeon says, and he spins around in another circle, lowering his staff. “They aren’t power hungry. I don’t understand how… how they could have been a devastation.”

“Their power was supreme,” Kyungsoo answers. “And if someone wanted to use them, they could.” 

“But they just wanted to be left alone,” Sehun says. “They just wanted to go back to the anti-matter.” 

Junmyeon frowns at him. “Yeah, I guess.” He looks around, the devastation of the planet now plain to the eye. “God, this place is a dump.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, slaps Junmyeon on the chest with the back of his hand. 

“Come on,” Kyungsoo says, and his eyes slide open and shut exceedingly slow. “I’m exhausted. Let’s go back to the Agency.” 

“Home is where the heart is, boys,” Junmyeon says cheerfully, and he throws arms around Sehun and Kyungsoo’s shoulders. “Oh, they’re all gonna be so _proud of us_.”  
  


♄

  
  
The journey back to the Agency is quiet, and Sehun can hear Kyungsoo resting. Junmyeon taps a little rhythm on the dashboard of his ship. Sehun closes his eyes, waits for it to be over. He knows, of course, that he should be happy. They are one step closer. Something in the back of his head keeps getting in the way. Something keeps him from rejoicing. 

Sehun sits there blankly as the directors pile on the praise. He stares forward, watching the dancing waves of their voices, and he can only think of what’s next. What comes next. Rolling, rolling waves. Water too deep to stand in. 

He speaks, the questions rote. He makes his answers match. The only words that really filter in are the words _Grey 6_ , and even then, it’s not enough to really get through the haze. He thanks them when they thank him, and then after the blue has gone dark, he stands. 

The doors open for him after he presses his hand to the reader, and then he steps out into the grand hall. He looks up to the ceiling of the building, sees clear through to the sky. He looks back down, wondering when Kyungsoo and Junmyeon will be done with their meetings. It’s probably not worth waiting around for them. He’d probably need to wait for a couple minutes. 

He decides to make his way across the hall slowly, limbs tired. Furious with himself, he sits on one of the benches on the other side of the hall. Puts his head in his hands. 

Another commendation. Another step towards Black. He has no idea what he’s working towards anymore. Some useless color. The absence of color. He never wanted it to happen _this_ way. He never wanted to become someone jaded. He never wanted to become lackluster. Someone who didn’t feel excitement over the things he once found wonderful. 

He doesn’t know why, but his head goes to Junmyeon. He thinks about Junmyeon’s suit, as dark as the emptiness of light, and he thinks about the casualness of what they do. It is easier and easier to kill things. Easier and easier to pick up and move on. When you _practice_ violence, you become good at it. Has he become good at it? Sanded down by it? Would small cruelties no longer bother him if he was convinced he was in the right? 

It is a stupid thought, and he’s stupid for having it. 

Why is he sitting here? Why is he waiting? 

He picks up, and he begins to walk away, his shoulders collapsing under the weight of Grey 6. He didn’t ever imagine. He wonders what Junmyeon might say when he hears. 

“Hey.” 

Sehun turns, sees Kyungsoo walking out of one of the adjacent rooms. Sehun stops until Kyungsoo passes him, and then Sehun joins him, falling in step with each other. Walking in tandem.

They move in silence for a while, just the meandering sounds of their boot heels and the rest of the Agency spinning around them. People stop and stare at them, and Sehun tries to ignore it, tries not to get a big head about it. It’s not as glamorous as he once thought. 

“Everything okay?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“W—Yeah,” Sehun says. “Yeah, totally good.” 

Kyungsoo stares at him for a moment, and Sehun feels himself being analyzed, every inch of him. _What are you looking for,_ Sehun wonders. _What are you trying to find?_

“Good,” Kyungsoo says. “I thought today might have… might have affected you.” 

“Affected me how?” 

Kyungsoo frowns. “Just with everything.” He looks down at their boots. “Did they give you commendations again?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “You?” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo smiles. “You don’t look happy about it.” 

“I am,” Sehun tells him, tells himself. “I’m happy.” 

“Happy people usually don’t have to say it like that.” 

“I am. I promise.” 

“You never break promises,” Kyungsoo says. “Don’t lie.” 

Sehun looks around, and people are still staring. It activates a part of himself that he hasn’t felt in a while, something that feels foreign now. He wants to cover himself up. He wants to hide. 

“We’re almost there,” Kyungsoo says. “We’ll get through it together.” 

Sehun doesn’t want to admit that he thinks, _Yes,_ they will get through it, but perhaps not together. 

“Hey, wait up.” Sehun turns at the sound, sees Junmyeon jogging over towards them, sees everyone gawking at him. Sehun wonders if Junmyeon knows what he looks like, hair moving as he runs, a handsome smile on his face, permablack suit still not enough to dull his shine. When he gets close enough, he grabs Kyungsoo and Sehun by the shoulder, huffing and puffing. “What the hell, you guys left without me.” 

A smile splits on Kyungsoo’s face, and he gently disengages from Junmyeon’s hold. 

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo says. “Sehun will walk with you.” 

“Wait, where are you going?” Sehun asks. 

“Gonna go run for a while,” Kyungsoo says. “Work off some of my energy.” 

“How do you have energy leftover?” Junmyeon asks. “By the time we left you looked like hell. Like, I feel like I need to sleep for a thousand years.” 

Sehun feels much the same. A good night’s sleep sounds good; there isn’t anything he’d rather do at the moment. 

“I dunno,” Kyungsoo shrugs. “Just excited, I guess.” 

“Excited?” Junmyeon smiles. “You?” 

“I have emotions,” Kyungsoo says blankly. 

It makes Junmyeon sputter out a laugh, clapping him on the back. They walk off, Junmyeon’s arm thrown over his shoulder, and Sehun wonders what the waters will bring for them, what the tides will pull in.  
  


♄

  
  
They are supposed to take time for themselves, but the more Sehun thinks about it, the more dangerous it seems to wait. They throw themselves back into the same old, same old, and Sehun sits in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Maybe they’ll be able to find something to genuinely help. Maybe they’ll be able to make real strides this time. 

It’s unlikely, of course, but he can hope, can’t he? 

Junmyeon is busy thinking out loud, and Sehun wonders how many times they can replay the same scene before realizing they never get anywhere of merit. 

“What could the words be? If we speak those words, do the rest of the Devastations simply vanish into thin air? Where can we find the words? Are they well-hidden? What am I saying, of course they’re well-hidden, things don’t come by us easily,” Junmyeon says, and then he sighs mightily. “Our quest for knowledge continues.” 

“And once again, we’ve got no concept of where to begin,” Sehun says. He sits up, buries his head in his hands. “This is emotionally exhausting, going back to square one so many times.” 

“Who said we don’t have a concept of where to begin?” Junmyeon asks. “Who said that?” 

“If you’ve got information, then you should just tell us instead of wrapping it up in some annoying song and dance,” Kyungsoo says, brows raised expectantly. 

“It’s inductive reasoning,” Junmyeon says. “There has to be some song and dance. Otherwise, it’s just reaching logical conclusions.” 

“Just tell us the logical conclusion, please,” Sehun whines. 

“ _Instead_ , I will lead you on a beautiful journey inside the mind,” Junmyeon says, whirling his arms around as he spins. “What wonders is this consciousness capable of? What terrors and beauty?” 

“You were right, this is exhausting,” Kyungsoo mutters. Sehun snorts.

“ _We can assume_ , beyond all reasonable doubt, that the Devastations are being held and manipulated by some greater power,” Junmyeon rambles before turning sharply, aiming the end of his staff at Sehun and then Kyungsoo. “Right? _Right?_ ”

“Right,” Kyungsoo says slowly. 

The end of the staff is pointed back in Sehun’s direction. “Right.” 

“And with the information that was revealed upon our latest deployment, namely the fact that the dreameaters were _not_ a particularly evil entity, we have discovered that the Necronomicon, and the Devastations therein, are tools to be used. On their own, they’re probably… well, I dunno, but the dreameaters themselves probably wouldn’t have done much harm, right?” 

He points the end of the staff to Kyungsoo who sighs. “Right.” 

The staff points to Sehun. “Come on. _Right._ ” 

“So, that’s fun,” Junmyeon says, smiling brightly. “It’s like, a metaphor, man.” 

“What metaphor, exactly?” Kyungsoo asks, squinting. 

“That evil is, like, relative,” Junmyeon says. 

“No,” Sehun says, “that’s not…” 

“Okay, you’re right, that’s bad,” Junmyeon says. “Hold on. I’ll get to it.” He uses his staff like a cane, leaning onto it. “Oh! Okay, so anyone could be evil, if their evil was accessed.” 

“What are you fucking talking about?” 

“The _heart of darkness_ ,” Junmyeon whispers. “The evil that exists inside everyone.” 

“I’m not evil,” Sehun says. 

“Tell that to your morning breath, hey-o,” Junmyeon says, raising his eyebrows expectantly. “Come on. That’s funny.” 

“Don’t you think that, I don’t know, there’s something wrong here?” Kyungsoo says. “Maybe something went wrong when the person opened the book?” 

Junmyeon makes a sound of interest. “Hm. Keep talking.” 

Kyungsoo looks to Sehun before looking back to Junmyeon. 

“Well, I don’t know,” Kyungsoo shrugs. “The dreameaters were listed along things like the fucking Night Mare. Along Agony. They were a weapon, obviously. They were designed as a weapon to be used.” 

“Right, right,” Junmyeon says, and his eyes go to the ceiling. “And yet—” 

“And yet they had no great pursuit of evil,” Kyungsoo says. “So…” 

“So?” 

“So, I don’t know,” Kyungsoo says. “So, I just… maybe something happened when the book opened. Maybe any number of things happened. Maybe they didn’t do what they were supposed to do, and they fucked up along the way.” 

“What exactly are you saying, then?” Junmyeon says. “There’s no way of knowing anything?” 

“Kinda,” Kyungsoo shrugs. “I mean, the possibilities are endless.” 

“This is a defeatist way of looking at the world and our station,” Junmyeon says. 

“I said _the possibilities are endless_.” Kyungsoo makes a soft noise. “That’s not exactly defeatist.” 

“When _the possibilities are endless_ is being used to defeat us moving forward with any theory,” Junmyeon says, trailing off before pointing at Sehun. “You’ve been hanging out with him too long.” 

“Hey.” 

“Hey what,” Junmyeon says. “I’m surrounded by the most depressing people in the galaxy.” 

“Wouldn’t it be potentially damaging to follow through with a theory unproven?” 

“Our other options are just taking each Devastation as they come, constantly getting ourselves to the brink of collapse, and then clawing our way back just for a moment of reprieve before we are once again thrust into danger and absolute silence.” 

“I think it’s a more pragmatic approach,” Kyungsoo says. “You want to bluster forward with incomplete information and guesses.” 

“Yeah, as opposed to getting ourselves in another situation like the one we just got _out_ of,” Junmyeon says. “Kill me over it, I guess.” 

Kyungsoo sighs, and Sehun again feels caught between the two of them.

“Can you at least tell us your system for devising which Devastation comes next?” Kyungsoo asks. “I mean, I know they’ll make themselves known to us, but how are they… I mean, come on. That’s fucking absurd. We can’t just wait around.” 

“No,” Junmyeon says. “You’re right. I’ve changed my mind on the situation in light of this new information.” Sehun rolls his eyes, but it must call Junmyeon’s attention. “Hey, enough out of you.” 

“I didn’t say anything,” Sehun says innocently, holding his hands up in front of him. 

“Enough of the pettiness,” Kyungsoo says, and his voice cuts through them both easily. “We’ve got one unknown, the Pale Death, the Levi, the Swarm.” 

“It’s the Levi,” Junmyeon answers. “I just know it.” 

“You just… you just _know_ it?” 

“Intuition is a powerful tool,” Junmyeon defends. 

“Is that really all we have?” Sehun asks. “Gut instinct?” 

“Well, not entirely,” Junmyeon says. “But it’s complicated.” 

“Just once, I would love to be clued into your thought processes,” Kyungsoo says. “Just once.” 

“Every time I try to talk about something like this, all I get is criticism!” Junmyeon says. “No one wants to hear my big ideas!” 

Kyungsoo rolls his head back, speaks to the ceiling. “Okay.” He looks up, smiling. “Please tell us your big ideas.” 

“Right,” Junmyeon says, “okay, so. It begins with a translation of something that Sehun happened to pick up.” 

Fear, immediate and sharp, stabs into Sehun’s throat. 

“W-What?” 

“You think I didn’t know?” Junmyeon asks, quirking a brow at him. “That you were trying to work out what it said on your own?” 

“What _what_ said?” Kyungsoo asks, and he turns to Sehun. “What’s he talking about?” 

Sehun looks at Junmyeon who shrugs. “Doesn’t matter who tells him, he should know.” 

Sehun doesn’t know why this starts to feel like an intense betrayal as the seconds tick on, but he clears his throat, swallows thickly, and begins. 

“Back when we fought the Night Mare,” Sehun says, and he keeps his eyes low, fingers playing together, “I found a piece of paper in the library. Some… some _old_ organic material paper. It was written in a language I couldn’t translate. I was… I was using my individual study to try and figure it out.” 

Realization dawns on Kyungsoo’s face, like suddenly he remembers. 

“You showed it to me,” Kyungsoo says. “You showed it to me, and I told you not to mess with it.” 

“And now here we are, practically several lifetimes later,” Junmyeon says. “Are we all okay with me picking up from here, or do we need a more comprehensive refresher?” 

“I think we’re good,” Sehun says, and he touches the back of his neck, notes the heat that’s risen through him like a swelling wave. “Can we just… move on?” 

“Moving on, then.” Junmyeon reaches into his pocket, withdraws the note. “It is very clear, and by clear, I mean intentionally misleading and almost certainly marred by cyclical logic.” 

“Good,” Kyungsoo frowns. “Very good.” 

“Seven becomes one, and from one, many hands. Voices stretch like limbs from the darkness, and the world rejoices as the true leader ascends his throne, oily and white.” 

“So what is that supposed to mean?” Kyungsoo asks. “It sounds like bad poetry.” 

“You have no tact,” Junmyeon accuses. 

“That’s rich,” Kyungsoo snorts, “coming from you.” 

“Anyway,” Junmyeon says, “it’s clear from this that the Devastations are being controlled by one. One man.” 

“That’s more than we’ve ever had before,” Sehun says. “But what makes you think we can trust this information?” 

Junmyeon stares at Sehun with pride plain on his face, and it makes Sehun’s stomach flair with heat. 

“I am so glad you asked,” Junmyeon says. “If you would, I’d like to take a field trip. Come on, class!” 

He waves his hand over his shoulder as he exits the room, _follow me_ , and Sehun looks to Kyungsoo. 

“It’s not like we have any other leads,” Kyungsoo shrugs, and he walks off, letting Sehun follow in his footsteps. 

The descent into the bowels of the building is not so different from the first time. Sehun realizes where they are going once they are in the lifter, once Junmyeon starts keying in the codes. 

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Kyungsoo says. “Are we allowed to come down here whenever we want?” 

“Who’s gonna stop us?” Junmyeon smiles, and he rests against the lifter wall, grabs one of the hang on handles, and braces himself as they shoot down into the pit of hell. “You?” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Kyungsoo says. “I just don’t know if it’s wise to come visit the artifact again.” 

“Why?” Sehun asks, and Kyungsoo looks at him, confused. “I just… I mean, it shouldn’t do any harm now, right? We’ve already been exposed to it once, so if there’s anything that’s gonna, I dunno, _affect_ us, then surely we’re already fucked, right?” 

Kyungsoo scoffs, looks around in frustration. “You don’t know. We’re in uncharted territory here.” He looks into Sehun’s eyes. “Do you wanna chance it?” 

“Do we have a choice?” 

“No,” Junmyeon says, “which is why we’re here.” 

The lifter comes to a swift stop, and the three of them have the wind along with the fight knocked out of them. Junmyeon recovers the quickest, stepping forward to the opening doors. 

“Come on, gentlemen,” Junmyeon smiles. “Destiny awaits.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, but he moves to follow. It’s only until he feels Kyungsoo’s eyes along his shoulders that he turns. 

“I don’t want to live to regret this,” Kyungsoo whispers. 

“I know you’re concerned,” Sehun says. “I know you’re scared, but—”

“It’s not a matter of fear,” Kyungsoo says, and he takes a step forward, closing the gap between them. “It’s a matter of wanting to survive until after.” 

“After?” 

Kyungsoo steps forward again, takes Sehun’s face in his hands. 

“I haven’t forgotten what I said,” Kyungsoo whispers. “Have you?” 

“N-No,” Sehun says. “No, of course not.” 

Kyungsoo’s smile is warm like dawn, and he withdraws slowly. “Just making sure.” 

He moves past Sehun, and Sehun follows his lead. 

The room that holds the Necronomicon is much the same as the time they visited before except now, there are stronger security measures. Junmyeon is just getting inside by the time Kyungsoo and Sehun catch up, and the doors part for the three of them. 

Junmyeon steps inside first, and the two of them follow cautiously, watching as the rest of the security system disables slowly. The glass that houses the book is lifted towards the ceiling by mechanical arms, and the room that looks sterile is steadily filled with anger, hate, and jealousy. Sehun shivers as it runs along his back. 

Sliding his gloves on, Junmyeon steps forward. 

“There was always this bit in the back of the book,” Junmyeon says, and he handles the Necronomicon gracefully, flipping it over in his hand. “Look.” 

He cracks it open, and there, on the inside of the back cover, there is disrupted stitching. 

He reaches into his pocket, takes out the paper, and he seats it back inside the book. It is weathered in all the same ways. The edges are marred and holey. 

“Someone wanted to get rid of this information. Tried to hide it in plain sight,” Junmyeon says, and he turns to Sehun. “But you found it.” 

“Why didn’t you mention this before?” Kyungsoo asks. “Why show us now?” 

“It wasn’t relevant until now,” Junmyeon sniffs. “You guys should just learn to _trust me._ ” 

Sehun groans. 

“That’s enough for today,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m done.” He nudges Sehun with his elbow. “You coming back to the cabins?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Y-Yeah, I’ll go.” 

“We’ve got so much to think about!” Junmyeon says. “You _really_ wanna put this off?” 

“Forgive us,” Kyungsoo says, “it’s been a long week.” 

Junmyeon smiles, shakes his head. “All right, all right. Tomorrow, then. Bright and early. I’m talking _right_ after First, I don’t care how much you wanna read about… I don’t know, gromlors and cherits and what have you.” Kyungsoo shoots him a look, and Junmyeon waves his hands wildly. “Look, I don’t know what you read in your free time!” 

Kyungsoo laughs, and Sehun’s heart lightens. The two of them fall into step as they walk back together. It seems like the tension has broken, Kyungsoo’s mood bouncing back easily, and Sehun is grateful. He hates when there’s in-fighting, hates when they’re at each other’s throats. It seems like it’s happening more and more these days, though. He wonders if that’s to continue. 

He hopes not. 

They make their way off towards the lifter, and it jolts to its fiery start. They hold themselves upright with the handles, and it only takes a moment before they are alerted that they are back on the ground floor. Together, they exit the lifter, and they walk in companionable silence off towards their wings. 

“Do you think you’re gonna do anything the rest of the night?” Sehun asks.

“Probably just relax,” Kyungsoo says. “Maybe just watch something on the ent-option.” He looks over, raises a straight brow. “You?” 

“I have to forge a new staff,” Sehun shrugs. “Sooner rather than later.” 

Kyungsoo winces. It is, of course, an incredible drain of energy to make the core, and Sehun doesn’t know where he’ll get such energy. 

“That’s a lot for one evening,” he warns. 

“It should be okay,” Sehun says. 

“Well, I wish you luck,” Kyungsoo says. “Let me know if you need any help with the choices.” 

Sehun smiles at him as they stop before his room. Kyungsoo keys in, thumb against the reader, and he looks back over his shoulder with a smile before walking through the parting doors. Sehun waits until the doors are closed, doesn’t know why, and he walks towards his own cabin only to be interrupted by a message on his bracer, blinking until he swipes to see Junmyeon’s number. 

_You asleep yet?_

Sehun snorts, writes back _I’m not even in the cabin yet._

Sehun is just about to raise his thumb to the reader when he gets another blinking message on his bracer. 

_Come here instead, then. I’ll make it worth your while._

Strangely, the words put a fire in Sehun’s stomach, and instead of going inside, falling asleep as he draws new plans for his staff, he turns around and follows the familiar pin until he is standing in front of Junmyeon’s cabin, Junmyeon leaning against the doors. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” Junmyeon smiles. 

“Well, I’m here,” Sehun says, even though it feels like something he should have kept in his head. He doesn’t know why. He ignores it, shakes it away. “Why am I here again?” 

“I wanted to show you something,” Junmyeon says. “Something interesting.” 

Sehun doesn’t ask the question he thinks he should: _Why don’t you show these things to Kyungsoo too?_

“What is it?” he asks, trying to cut to the chase. 

“Come on, that would spoil all the fun.” He turns, opens the door to his cabin. “Let’s go.” 

Sehun follows him in, and there is no one inside. How many agents live in this cabin? And where are they? Junmyeon always gives him questions, questions with no answers, and at a certain point, you get tired of all the interrogations. 

“Here, it’s just…,” and he moves back to his bunk. 

There, slipped under the cover, the silverstar arrowhead sticking out plain as day, is Sehun’s staff. Junmyeon whips around, eyes wide, and he stares at Sehun. 

“Wait, wait, i-it was lost,” Junmyeon says. “W-What’s it doing i—did you find it?” 

Sehun’s stomach turns, a dull, clenching pain streaking through him. 

“What? No! I don’t know what… what’s going on,” Sehun says, and he stares at it, confused. “I don’t know… how could it be here? W-When I left it there? I thought it would have…” He looks at Junmyeon. “Did you take it from me?” 

“T-Take it from you?” Junmyeon asks. “What are you fucking talking about?” 

“I… I left it there,” Sehun says. “I left it, and here it is.” He looks into Junmyeon’s eyes, sees a funny kind of fear. 

“Well, it’s not like I _wanted_ it,” Junmyeon says, and his brows crinkle in the center, shoving his hands out towards the staff. “Take it. I don’t want it. I just—” 

“Just what?” 

“I don’t know how it got here.” Sehun scoffs, and Junmyeon looks shocked. “What, you don’t believe me?” 

It occurs to Sehun then that he _doesn’t_ believe Junmyeon. Doesn’t trust him as much as he once thought he did. He shrugs his shoulders, grabs the staff. 

“I don’t know what you might want,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon looks broken down, face collapsing like falling buildings. 

“Seriously? Like, really?” 

“I don’t know.” Sehun looks away, doesn’t dare look in his eyes. He doesn’t wanna see the hurt. “I don’t really know you all that well.” 

Junmyeon sputters for a moment, aborted sentences that go nowhere. Then, he explodes. 

“When would I have had the opportunity?” Junmyeon asks. “How could I have gotten it past you without you knowing? Why would I bring you back here if I knew it was just, like, laying out in the open?” He furrows his brow. “Are you stupid? If I wanted to screw with you, wouldn’t I have done it already? A-And, like, is your opinion of me so low that you think I’d fuck it up so bad? What kind of idiot would I have to be to steal something and then show it to you like you wouldn’t recognize it?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. “I don’t know, I just… I think I need to go to bed.” 

Junmyeon shakes his head. “Yeah. Whatever.” 

Sehun turns, gets to the door, and slips through. Junmyeon does not try to stop him, and Sehun thinks that’s probably for the best. He doesn’t want to say something he doesn’t mean, doesn’t want to accuse him of more than he already has. Junmyeon made good points, of course, and he’s probably right, right the way he always is. 

Something about it, though… something doesn’t feel right. Sits like grease on the skin. 

He is already halfway back to his cabin by the time he realizes he’s been walking hard, boots loud against the floor. He shuts his eyes, exhales, resists the overwhelming urge to break something. He thinks about messaging Kyungsoo, telling him what happened, but he doesn’t know if that’s such a good idea, not when he’s so… uselessly upset. What is he really angry about? Shouldn’t it be a good thing? He found his staff. He doesn’t have to make a new one. 

Still, it feels like mutual betrayal, like he can’t really trust Junmyeon, like Junmyeon can’t really trust him either. 

Sehun goes into his cabin, pulls off his boots, and gets under the covers. The bracer blinks, and he ignores it for a moment before deciding to check, holding his arm up above his head. The message bears Junmyeon’s number, and Sehun blinks, letting his eyes go unfocused before snapping into the message. 

_Are we okay?_

The two of them, Sehun has no idea what they are. Doesn’t even know what he wants them to be. He had no idea it would get so complicated so fast. 

_I don’t know_ , he thinks. _Are we?_

It isn’t until Sehun is on the edge of sleep that it hits him, hits him in the chest. He never gave the paper to Junmyeon.


	5. Chapter 5

The worst kinds of nightmares are the ones you’re awake for. 

He keeps the information to himself for the next several days as they relax in the space between their last triumph and their next deployment. Kyungsoo seems to notice something is wrong right away, but he doesn’t poke or prod at it, prefers to let Sehun come to him, Sehun supposes. 

Suspicions take hold in him, though, the sort he can’t shake. 

He doesn’t want it to disrupt things, but he knows that it will, especially if he leaves it to fester. He confronts Junmyeon before First after about a week of rest. When Sehun stops him, Junmyeon’s hair is still sticking up in random places, eyes puffy, face still streaked with the imprint of wrinkled sheets. 

“What?” Junmyeon asks, squinting. 

“Did you skip shower?” 

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” Junmyeon asks, and he yawns. “I’m tired.” 

“How can you be tired?” Sehun asks. 

“We wake up very early,” Junmyeon says, and he puts his hand on his hips. “What’s with the interrogation? I just wanna go get some sausage bites.” 

“Right,” Sehun says, and he looks around. The rest of the agents filing in all take a moment to gawk at them. “I just wanted to ask you a few questions.” 

Junmyeon squints again, but this time, it is not from lack of energy. It seems more like he’s sizing Sehun up. Wondering what he’s up to. 

“Okay, shoot,” Junmyeon says, and he folds his arms across his chest. 

“The paper from the back of the book,” Sehun says. “Where did you get that?” 

“From you,” Junmyeon answers. “Duh.” 

“No shit.” He shakes his head. “I mean, _how_ did you get it from me?” 

“I took it when you weren’t looking,” Junmyeon says. “I thought you knew.” 

“How would I have known something like that?” Sehun asks. 

“I dunno, be more perceptive.” He reaches out, slaps Sehun on the arm. “Is this why you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder for the last week?” Sehun steps back. He hadn’t realized he was being so obvious. “I can read you like an open book, my love.” 

Sehun wrinkles his nose, lets Junmyeon shove past him. 

“You’re so annoying,” Sehun says. 

“You love me,” Junmyeon says, and not for the first time, Sehun wonders what it means that he’s correct. 

Love makes Sehun do stupid things. He knows that, and still, he can’t stop.  
  


♄

  
  
Preparations for their raid of Aquaria begin immediately, and Sehun barely has a chance to catch his breath. Even given the opportunity, though, he doesn’t know if he would really want to. If they pull off the throttle, who knows what could happen, what horrors could befall them? 

“We got word of Levi taking up residence here in the middle of last week,” Junmyeon says. “Which makes sense. Small planet, minimal land masses.” He nods. “Pretty perfect place for him to set up shop.” 

“We’re gonna drown,” Sehun says. 

“That’s the spirit,” Junmyeon cheers, and he punches Sehun lightly in the shoulder. He turns to Kyungsoo afterwards. “We’re lucky, of course.” 

“How is any of this lucky?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“Well, the good news is that Aquaria was long abandoned! No people to murder!” 

“The bad news?” Kyungsoo prompts. 

“Can’t we just focus on the good news?” Junmyeon asks. 

“We’re realists,” Kyungsoo says, pointing between himself and Sehun. 

“Realists,” Junmyeon scoffs. 

“Get to the point,” Sehun interrupts. “What’s the bad news?” 

“Who says there’s bad news? Why does there always have to be bad news?” 

“A book of the universe’s worst monstrosities was opened, and you think we believe there’s only good news?” Sehun asks. 

“Good point,” Junmyeon says, and he turns to the boards. He drags and drops some folders up onto the board, opens them up in quick succession, the pictures spitting out into h-grams in front of them. “Surveillance captured these images of the Levi as it was taking root.”

“Root?” Sehun asks, and he looks at the pictures, vaguely horrified. He can’t tell where the creature drenched in water begins, where the top of the rolling ocean ends. It’s almost like they are an extension of the same element. It is a fascinating picture, and Sehun squints like he might be able to see something the others can’t. 

“By root, I mean that it descends to the sea floor, sends hooks into the core of the planet, and tethers itself that way. It’s allowed free movement because it can liquify at will but the spiritual chain to the planet remains which makes our jobs more complicated. I’m assuming it has plans for expansion, potentially going to another world nearby once it’s hungry. Izarth, perhaps,” Junmyeon explains, and he circles through a selection of the pictures. “How do you deal with water? I mean… it’s hydrogen and oxygen.” 

“Focus on the physical form, then?” Sehun suggests. “And then, when we can, sever the chain?” 

“Seems like our best bet,” Junmyeon agrees. He picks another picture, the Levi hunting through the oceans for prey. “And… of course, you have this.” Junmyeon sends the next h-gram spinning around in a circle, but when it stops, Sehun is horrified by the gaping mouth, deep and black, as it skims along the water. 

“Great,” Kyungsoo says. “Anything else that demands our immediate focus?” 

“Well, you have the tentacles,” Junmyeon says, and he sends the h-gram of the mouth to the back only to replace it with one of its wiggling, writhing tentacles, hundreds upon thousands of them. “Nice.” 

“Nice?” 

“This is all extremely sexual,” Junmyeon says, and the pair of them groan beside him. “What? You can’t tell me I was the only person thinking it.” 

“You were the only person thinking it,” Kyungsoo assures him. 

“Nah, Sehun _definitely_ was,” Junmyeon smiles. “I know him. He’s a dirty little bactball.” 

“I am _not_ ,” Sehun insists. 

“You are too.” 

“I am not.” 

“You are too!” 

“I’m gonna ask to be reassigned to a different triad,” Kyungsoo deadpans. 

“Okay, okay, fine,” Junmyeon says. “But still… come on, this sounds like something out of a twenty plus ent-option.” He holds his hands out in front of them, the insides of his wrists pressed together like he’s been bound. “Who will rescue me, now that the big, terrible leviathan has captured me? Oh no, I suppose I will just succumb to the immense pleasure of being fucked within an inch of my life.” 

“This is terrible,” Kyungsoo says. 

“But kind of hot, no?” Junmyeon smiles. 

“Doesn’t the leviathan have a giant gaping mouth with like, thousands upon thousands of razor-sharp teeth?” Sehun asks. “Didn’t we _just_ see the physical evidence of its deadly capabilities?” 

“Don’t make it weird,” Junmyeon pouts. “Just let me have my fantasy. You can go back to jerking off about holding hands or whatever.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes. 

“Game plan,” Kyungsoo says. “Point one: don’t get distracted by how much you want the Devastation to have sex with you.” 

“The struggle,” Junmyeon groans, the back of his hand resting against his forehead. “The struggle no one understands.” 

“Point two,” Kyungsoo says, and he throws the words up on the board, “freeze him out.” 

“Ice?” Sehun says. “Do you really think that will work?” 

“Movement through the water is going to be one of his biggest advantages over us,” Kyungsoo says, and he stands up, walking to the board. He makes a list that reads _Movement/speed, wingspan, tentacles/power_. “If we’re able to knock out at least two of those, namely his speed and his tentacles, then—” 

“Then we should be able to overload him with killing curses,” Junmyeon says. Sehun looks back at him. “Good thoughts. The roots, though—” 

“If the thing dies,” Kyungsoo says, “the spiritual chain is broken.” 

“That is… a good point,” Junmyeon says. “Okay, I guess we have our focuses laid out pretty well, wouldn’t you say?” He claps his hands together, and all the cluttered h-grams zip back into the board. “Let’s get to work!”  
  


♄

  
  
Luckily for Sehun, he is already more than adequate with elemental spells, ice in particular. Minseok was best at the ice spells, and he taught Kyungsoo and Sehun everything he knew. 

Staff in hand, Sehun stands before room 33, bracing himself. He doesn’t remember the last time he practiced a glacium. A stupid part of him feels guilty for not feeling enough guilt. For not thinking about Minseok enough. They were brothers. They were best friends. And now… now, Sehun barely thinks about him. Didn’t the anger and sadness nearly consume him once? Didn’t he feel like Minseok’s death was his own? Didn’t the pain feel ripe and natural? 

Tears bloom in his eyes, and he wipes them away. Has he become thoughtless? Self-centered? Has he become so invested in this that he’s forgotten why it was so important to him once upon a time? 

A hand cups his shoulder, and he spins around quickly, staff poised to strike. 

“Whoa, hey,” Junmyeon says, “little too quick on the draw there, ace.” Sehun lowers his staff, blinks several times as if he’s got something in his eye. “What’s the matter?” 

“What?” 

“You look like… all… bad and stuff,” Junmyeon says, gesturing towards Sehun’s face. 

“Thanks,” Sehun says blankly. 

“I just mean, like, what’s going on?” Junmyeon tilts his head to the side, studying Sehun closely. “You look upset.” 

“It’s nothing,” Sehun tells him. “Let’s go in, I’m sure Kyungsoo is already in there.” Junmyeon huffs, and Sehun can’t _not_ engage with that. “What?” 

“You never learn, do you?” Junmyeon says. “It’s better to get things out in the open instead of letting them shrivel up and die inside you.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You’re going through something emotional obviously,” Junmyeon says, and he points to himself. “ _I’m_ here to help with that.” 

“Why do you think that?” Sehun asks, narrowing his eyes. “What makes you—” 

“I’m your friend, dumbass,” Junmyeon says. “And I love you. And I want you to be happy.” 

Sehun has no idea why his stomach starts to churn at that, but he looks down to the toes of their boots. “Thanks.” 

“I’ll stop pushing,” Junmyeon says. “But just know, like, whatever… I’m here for you.” Junmyeon makes a noise of disgust, and Sehun immediately looks up to see Junmyeon’s face wrinkling with displeasure. “I hate being sappy.” 

“You said you like romance readers,” Sehun says. “Isn’t that all sap?” 

“Remembered my reading preferences, did you?” Sehun rolls his eyes in response. “No, no, I just think that’s very romantic.” 

“Oh, _enough_ ,” Sehun says, and he puts his thumb against the reader to scan into the training room. 

“ _Someone’s got a crush_ ,” Junmyeon sing-songs, and that’s the worst thing about it, Sehun thinks. That it’s probably true.  
  


♄

  
  
Junmyeon is enough of a distraction from the memory of Minseok that Sehun is able to perform the glacium charms with little hesitation or issue. Junmyeon claps happily whenever Sehun manages to freeze one of the dummies in their tracks, struggling as they try to break free of the hold. But Minseok taught him well. His ice never breaks. 

“That is fucking… incredible,” Junmyeon says, running his fingertips over the slick surface of the ice. He turns back to Sehun. “You have to give me private lessons.” 

“Me?” Sehun asks. “Why me?” 

“Kyungsoo isn’t as good as you,” Junmyeon says, and he shoots a look over to Kyungsoo. “No offense.” 

“None taken,” Kyungsoo says, whipping his staff around, tucking it under his arm as he addresses Sehun. “He’s right, after all. You’re better than me, and you’re _much_ better than him.” 

“Hey,” Junmyeon squawks. 

“No offense,” Kyungsoo smiles. 

Junmyeon turns back to Sehun. “What do you say?” 

Sehun isn’t used to being put in such a position, of course. He’s sort of gotten used to being behind in terms of magic, but now, being reminded of a skill he’s honed, worked hard to perfect… it feels good. 

“Sure,” Sehun says. “If you want.” 

“I do want,” Junmyeon says, and he folds his arms across his chest. “I mean, do you know how embarrassing it is to have a Six be better than me at something?” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, shoves him, but it only makes Junmyeon laugh softly, and for the rest of the day, Sehun can’t seem to keep his mind from wandering to the promise of private lessons. Does it sound lewd to him because it _is_ lewd, or only because he wants it to be?  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun keeps his head down as the days go on, and he waits for Junmyeon to come to him because he definitely isn’t going to bring it up. In his mind, the only way it can go is south. He’s already feeling so conflicted, and he knows that individual study, being thrust together can only make matters worse. 

Unluckily, Junmyeon suggests they go to the training room at night after Third. 

“Why don’t we just go between Second and Third?” Sehun asks, and he fiddles with the wrist of his jumpsuit, adjusting it because he needs something else to focus on. 

“It’s not as sexy,” Junmyeon says. 

Sehun stares at him, confused, and Junmyeon smiles, raising a brow. 

“You have your priorities completely mixed up.”

“Don’t I know it,” Junmyeon says . He pokes Sehun with the end of his staff, nudging him forward. “Come on, teach. Let’s go get smart.” 

Sehun leads the way to the training room, and it feels distinctly empty with just the two of them. Junmyeon sits on the white padded floor, legs folded up, staff across his knees, and he gestures to Sehun. 

“Begin.” 

“Uh, I don’t really… I don’t really know where to start,” Sehun says. 

“You’re a bad teacher,” Junmyeon says. 

“I haven’t even begun yet!” Sehun argues. 

“Exactly, time is a very valuable currency, and here you are, wasting it!” 

Sehun groans, turns his back to Junmyeon. He waves his staff, opens the dome above until two bodies fall to the floor, wheeling forward automatically. 

“Minseok taught us,” Sehun says, and he uses the bottom end of his staff to shoot a glacier jet through the skull of one of the h-grams until it crashes into pixels. He uses the head of his staff, the bright blue silverstar, to shoot another couple gusts of it through the other’s stomach. “It’s about timing and… memories.” 

“Memories?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Focusing on potent memory, good or bad, harnessing that into the spell,” Sehun says. “It’s not that difficult.” Junmyeon smirks. “What?” 

“It’s just funny,” Junmyeon says. “You look good when you’re cocky.”

Sehun frowns. “I’m not cocky.” 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“I’m pretty sure _cocky_ has exclusively negative connotations,” Sehun explains. 

“Confident, then,” Junmyeon says, and he tucks his staff under his body, smiling at Sehun. “It looks good on you.” 

Sehun looks away. “Do you wanna learn the spell or not?” 

“I mean, I _know_ the spell,” Junmyeon says. “I mostly just need pointers. Honing the blade, you know what I’m saying?” 

“As always, no, I have no idea what you’re saying.” 

“I wanna sharpen my skills,” Junmyeon says. “Don’t you wanna save the universe?” 

Sehun sighs, and he points to the center position in the room. “Stand there.” 

Junmyeon hops to position, staff out in front of him in the standard attack position, level at his hips. “Throw ‘em at me.” He turns, looks back at Sehun over his shoulder. “I live to impress.” 

“Go on, then,” Sehun says, and he presses the simulation into the panel, watches as the light around the hub changes color, and immediately begins to drop the h-gram bodies. 

Junmyeon breathes in, breathes out, and he starts throwing spells like a man possessed. 

The ice is strong enough to hold some of them in place, but some of the grams are stronger, breaking through, and Junmyeon curses as he throws another spell, binding them at the feet, before trying to plunge a dagger of ice through the head. 

The dagger ricochets, and Sehun has to be quick on his feet to jump out of the way, slamming his fist on the stop button before dealing with the remaining h-grams. 

“Trying to kill me?” Sehun asks. 

“Sorry,” Junmyeon smiles. “Thought it would work.” 

“Thought wrong.” 

“Teach me,” Junmyeon pleads. “Teach me, teach me!” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, and he shows Junmyeon all the pointers he knows, all the things Minseok told him way back when, his spirit a little lighter, his conscience a little clearer.  
  


♄

  
  
Sessions go on for quite some time, a week or more, and Sehun studies Junmyeon’s form as they go, adjusting the positioning of his hands, his hips. 

“This is very alluring,” Junmyeon says over his shoulder, staring back at Sehun. “Do you teach everyone this way?” 

“I don’t often _teach_ ,” Sehun answers, and he steps back. “Try it again.” 

Junmyeon builds a furious ball of crystallizing ice in the air above him before sending it over to bowl over a stationary h-gram body. The force of the blow sends the body to the wall, exploding into pixels, falling through the floor. 

“Excellent,” Sehun says. “You’re making great progress.” 

“Now, is that because I am a wonderful student or because you are a wonderful teacher,” Junmyeon says, and he turns, grinning at Sehun. “Maybe a little bit of both?” 

Sehun feels his face heat up, and he doesn’t know why, so he turns back to the wall, keys in a pattern, and watches the simulation begin. Junmyeon hurriedly turns back to the point position, smiling like crazy. 

“Watch this,” Junmyeon says. “I’m about to send these motherfuckers to hell.” 

Sehun watches Junmyeon dance through the simulated battle as though it is nothing to him, and not for the first time, Sehun is in awe of Junmyeon’s raw ability, his focus and his drive, the beauty and grace of his movement. He sends spell after shivering spell, obliterates form after form, and when all is said and done, he turns back to Sehun, breathing out heavy breaths. 

“How’d I do?” 

“Y-You’ve done well,” Sehun says. “I think that just about wraps things up.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I think I’ve taught you everything I can,” Sehun says.

“No,” Junmyeon whines. “I still have so much to learn!” 

“You’re already better than me and it’s only been four days,” Sehun says. “You’re good.” 

“Just a couple more sessions,” Junmyeon begs. “Please?” 

Sehun finds it hard to deny him anything, especially once he realizes just how much he’s been enjoying his time alone with Junmyeon. 

“Fine,” Sehun says. “Just a couple.” 

Junmyeon makes a soft noise before throwing himself into Sehun’s arms, magic sending his staff to the floor in a slow, easy fall.  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun feels himself gravitating towards Junmyeon like he is the biggest planet in the universe, attracting everything to him. They sit in the training room late into the evenings, and most of the time, they don’t even practice. They just talk about nothing. Sehun doesn’t know why he continuously indulges Junmyeon like this, only knows that it feels like indulgence to him as well. It’s almost like they can pretend like their lives aren’t on the line, like they’re not risking so much to take things slow. 

“You worry too much,” Junmyeon advises, and he knocks his knuckles against Sehun’s temple lightly. 

“The fate of the world is on our shoulders,” Sehun says. “I feel like we worry too little.” 

Junmyeon sighs, cups Sehun’s cheek in his hand until Sehun closes his eyes. Junmyeon touches him so much now, and he’s beginning to become accustomed to it. He’s beginning to crave it, no matter how small the affection. 

“This is bigger than any three people,” Junmyeon whispers. “No matter what they tell you. No matter what you feel.” 

“Don’t,” Sehun says. “You don’t have to try and make me feel better.” 

“You cast better when you’re happy.” 

“No, I don’t. I cast better when I’m focused.” 

“Keep telling yourself that,” Junmyeon smiles. 

Sehun keeps his mouth shut, knows now that if he asks what Junmyeon means, he will end up being swayed. Junmyeon is good at selling him ideas. Junmyeon is good at convincing him of just about anything. There is a certain danger in that, Sehun knows, so he keeps himself from giving Junmyeon opportunities he wouldn’t normally have. 

“What are you thinking?” Junmyeon asks. 

“I’m not thinking anything,” Sehun says. 

“You’re always thinking,” Junmyeon says, and he pokes the tip of his finger against Sehun’s temple. “I always see your gears turning.” 

Sehun quickly bats Junmyeon’s hand away from him, making Junmyeon huff out a laugh. Sehun turns, grabs his staff. “Let’s run it again.” 

“Whatever you say.” He stands at the center position, and he turns, smiling brightly at Sehun. “Ready when you are.” 

He keys in the program, walks over. Sehun puts his back against Junmyeon’s, and even through the woven fabric of their jumpsuits, Sehun can feel the warmth of Junmyeon’s body. Addictive and sweet. He shuts his eyes, commits it to memory. This will be a powerful one, he thinks to himself. This will yield the strongest ice imaginable. Unable to be shattered. 

The hub at the ceiling shines, and the h-grams begin to drop. 

They move with each other like they were born to do this, like the ice shooting from them is blood from their veins. They turn, twist around each other, and the bodies fall to the ground, spiked through with iridescent ice, frozen in place and falling down to the floor in pixels. 

Junmyeon shoots him a look as he casts another spell from his staff, a cocky little smile, and Sehun feels himself smiling back before Junmyeon says, “Duck.” 

Sehun ducks before he even processes the command, and from above, Junmyeon rains down frozen hell onto the h-gram approaching from the back. Soft shards of ice melt in the air, and they fall onto Sehun as he looks up in wonder. Everything looks natural to him, even when it isn’t. He wears everything like he was born to wear it. He is a chameleon, multifaceted like his rainstone. Sehun stands just as the hub dims, as the simulation runs its course. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Junmyeon comments, only slightly betrayed by his heavy breathing. 

“That was the most difficult setting for combat,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon smiles. “Pretty easy.” 

“I almost got attacked.” 

“Yeah, but you didn’t,” Junmyeon says. “I got you, didn’t I?” 

“Y-Yeah, I guess so,” Sehun says. 

“So, that means we’re good together.” He raises his eyebrows up and down. “Compatible.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, goes back over to the wall, and keys in the same setting. 

“Wait, are we seriously gonna run it again?” Junmyeon asks. “We just ended.” 

“You can go to bed whenever you want,” Sehun says. “But if we’re here and we’re up, then we’re gonna work.” 

Junmyeon groans, stomps his foot, and he moves back to the center position. “Fine, fine.” He looks back at Sehun over his shoulder as Sehun walks back to join him. “But this is fun, isn’t it? Fighting together like this?” 

Sehun swallows thickly, puts his back against Junmyeon’s once more, and as the hub shines, begins dropping more enemies for them to battle against, he is forced to reconcile with the fact that it’s the most fun he’s had in quite some time.  
  


♄

  
  
They are lying on the floor of the training room deep into the heart of the evening, and Junmyeon is out of breath beside him, laughing like it’s all very funny. 

“You’re funny,” Junmyeon says. 

“Funny?” 

“Just you… you feel things so deeply, but you try to pretend like you don’t. It’s almost like you think that if you can convince yourself, you can convince everyone else.” 

Sehun looks to the ceiling, the hub of the room. It is shining red, disengaged, and it throws scarlet light over their bodies like a blanket of warmth. 

“I guess,” Sehun says. 

“See?” Sehun turns his head to look at him, but Junmyeon just stares straight up, a secret smile spreading on his face. “You don’t just let yourself react. It has to pass through a thousand filters before you let yourself speak.” 

Something boils within Sehun, and he sharply turns his head straight again. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Wanting to… wanting to control myself and my emotions.” 

“It’s not,” Junmyeon says. “In moderation.” 

“You sound like one of my physio teachers from when I was a kid,” Sehun scoffs. “ _Everything in moderation._ ” 

“Well, I’m serious,” Junmyeon says. “You say you keep things bottled up because you want to control it, but if anything, this is a complete lack of control.” 

Sehun looks at him again, and he is staring back. Bright eyes, full of life. _How many friends have you seen die_ , he wants to ask. _How many times have you been on the brink of self-destruction?_ He doesn’t mean the thoughts to sound so cruel. He just wants to know. Maybe if he knew, he would be able to see more of himself in Junmyeon. Maybe, he would be able to follow in his footsteps. 

“How do you mean?” Sehun asks softly. 

“Suppression is never healthy,” Junmyeon says, “and it’s never useful.” 

“They teach us—” 

“Who gives a fuck what they _teach_?” Junmyeon says. “You need to redirect. You need an outlet. And magic… magic can and should be that outlet. Utilizing emotion, taking it and putting it somewhere where it can help rather than hurt.” He laughs. “I mean… honestly, think about what you could be if you stopped shoving things down. If you let them rise to the top and then had a way to channel them correctly. _That’s_ the reason you’re so good with glacium. Not because of Minseok or anyone else. It’s because for once, you’re able to channel things correctly.” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” 

“I don’t know if I could… do that,” Sehun says. “When I start getting overwhelmed or upset, it feels like—” 

“A fire,” Junmyeon finishes. 

Sehun looks into his eyes, and they go soft with a smile. “Yeah. Sort of.” 

“I know you’ll never believe me, but once upon a time,” Junmyeon says, “I was very much like you.” 

“How did you get to… to where you are?” 

“I let the fire burn,” Junmyeon smiles. 

He moves closer to Sehun, excruciatingly slow, and Sehun has every opportunity to move away. Put distance between them. Get out of the room. Change his mind. Change Junmyeon’s mind. 

He doesn’t move. Lets Junmyeon press his lips to Sehun’s, eyes slipping closed as they lie there on the pristine white floor. Sehun makes a soft sound when Junmyeon pulls back, and Sehun opens his eyes to his beautiful face, crystal clear turning hazy as the endless seconds tick on. Sehun reaches out, touches Junmyeon’s cheek with his fingertips, and suddenly everything is falling away. He is slipping, slipping, falling, and when he wakes up, he tells himself he’s thankful that it was just a dream. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t manage to convince himself. Not even a little bit. 

He gets up in the middle of the night, puts on his boots. He drags himself out to the quad, and he is alone under the cover of darkness. He walks, takes the giant loop, and he looks up at the stars, tracing constellations. He knows he feels deeply, but his life would be a lot easier if he could put a name on exactly what he feels for Junmyeon.  
  


♄

  
  
Their private lessons end after that, and Sehun attempts to put distance between himself and Junmyeon. That works, for a few days, but after that, Junmyeon has questions because _of course_ he has questions. 

“I’m just saying,” Junmyeon says, and he pokes Sehun in the shoulder with his chopsticks. “If you have a problem with me, we should _address_ it before it turns into another one of our famous situations.” 

Sehun cocks a brow. “Situations?” 

“You know,” Junmyeon smiles. “We have our escapades, our nonsensical adventures, our situations.” He shimmies his shoulders a little bit before turning back to his glass noodles, dripping with vitasoy. “Keeps things interesting, of course, but let’s focus up.” He looks back at Sehun from his peripherals, then back to his noodles. “We’ve got a deployment on the imminent horizon.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m just saying better late than never, bitch.” 

“What are we talking about?” Kyungsoo asks, setting his tray down across from them

Sehun says “Nothing,” just as Junmyeon blurts out “Romance.” Sehun stares at him blankly before turning back to Kyungsoo, reiterating “Nothing.” 

“Whatever,” Kyungsoo mutters. “You don’t want me involved, just say so.” 

Sehun furrows his brow, and Kyungsoo begins to eat. Junmyeon makes a hushed _ooh_ sound, and Sehun turns to him, kicks him under the table. 

“I’m gonna eat somewhere else, I think,” Kyungsoo says, and he picks up his tray sharply, moves before Sehun can think of anything to say.

“Wow, you really fucked that one up,” Junmyeon says. 

Sehun turns to him angrily. “Why would you say that?” 

“Say what?” 

“S—About _romance_ ,” Sehun says. 

“I dunno,” Junmyeon says. “Isn’t it about our romance?” 

“We don’t have a romance,” Sehun screeches, and it stabs through the sudden quiet of the cafeteria. “Oh, whatever. I’ll be back.” 

“I’ll keep your food safe,” Junmyeon says. “And I definitely won’t eat any.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, and he walks over to the empty table that Kyungsoo’s moved to, well aware of the stares that follow him over. He sits down on the bench, and Kyungsoo pops a pepchoc into his mouth, chewing it quietly.

“There’s nothing between me and him,” Sehun says. 

“I know,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Are you mad?” 

“No,” Kyungsoo says. 

“You seem mad.” 

“I’m not.” 

Sehun sits there, hands in his lap, fiddles around for something to say. “I’m sorry.” 

Kyungsoo looks up, warm eyes melting into Sehun’s. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m just—”

“What?” 

“I don’t want this to affect the triad,” Kyungsoo says. “I want things to stay normal. I want us to be able to look at each other normally. I don’t want to argue, I don’t want to fight, I don’t… I don’t want any of that. I want us to act like professionals.” 

Sehun doesn’t know how to tell him that once, all his dreams circled around the two of them together, what their lives could be. He doesn’t know how to say _It was never normal, not for me at least._

“Okay,” Sehun says. “I-If I can do anything—” 

“You can,” Kyungsoo says quickly, and he reaches across the table to take one of Sehun’s hands in his. “You already told me you don’t trust him. You told me you think he’s up to something, right?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says, but his head is so mixed up now, his heart pulled in a thousand different directions. 

“How can you forget about that so quickly? How does he manage to just, like, change your mind so easily? Does that seem right?” 

Sehun looks down at their hands, a rare touch between the two of them. It didn’t used to be so rare, but now… 

“Hey.” Sehun looks up, and Kyungsoo’s eyes are warm, sweet. He looks at Sehun with something unnameable, something like that evening from so long ago. “Do me a favor, okay?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Anything.” 

“Don’t fall in love with him.” 

Sehun forces himself to smile so that he can’t spit out _I already have._  
  


♄

  
  
Interpersonal drama is exactly what Kyungsoo said he wanted to avoid, but the triad seems more tense than ever as the days go on. They train together, they plan together, they eat together, and occasionally, they will play together, but still, there is a vague, unsettled feeling between the three of them, or at the very least, Sehun feels it. He can never tell if he can trust his own emotions. Maybe he’s making things up. 

Junmyeon designs special suits for them as Kyungsoo is busying himself with reader after reader. Sehun sits there and watches as Junmyeon works, scribbling on the table, tapping furiously, erasing and redrawing. It is dizzying, and Sehun finds himself amused by the way Junmyeon makes little frustrated noises, occasionally asking Sehun for his opinion. 

“What do you think?” Junmyeon asks, and he wheels around, pointing with his pen. He projects the prototype into the air, a rippling h-gram. He spins it in a little circle. “So obviously our masks, they have the Tritonic element so, unless they fail, we’ll be able to breathe underwater. In preparation for failure, emergency nitrotanks are built into the cells of the legs. The fiber is breathable, and it can regulate body temperature which will become important if we’re utilizing ice as much as we believe we will be.” He zooms in, highlighting the little hexagonal fabric. “Pierce-proof up to 100 joules. Standard, but that will almost certainly become important if we get anywhere near the mouth of this thing.” He shivers. “In the back, we have automatic flotation that kicks in when submerged below 40 meters.” 

“Sounds like you thought of everything,” Sehun says. 

“That’s the problem,” Junmyeon says. “There’s always something that you forget. I’m trying to figure out what that is.” 

“Maybe a failsafe for the comms system?” Sehun suggests. Junmyeon looks at him. “I just mean, like, since during our battle with the dreameaters, we were effectively cut off from each other becau—”

“Shut up,” Junmyeon says, and he wheels back around in his chair, scribbling like a crazy person on his table. “Shut up, I got it.” 

Sehun folds his arms across his chest, leans back in his seat. “So I helped?” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get a big head about it,” Junmyeon mutters, but it makes Sehun smile regardless. 

Behind him, Kyungsoo makes a soft sound, and Sehun immediately turns to face him. Kyungsoo is studying his reader, not doing anything besides, and Sehun swallows over his affection for Junmyeon, goes back to watching the line of Junmyeon’s shoulders as he designs, the room falling into uncomfortable quiet.  
  


♄

  
  
The suits are made, and given that they are his brainchild, Junmyeon is in charge of picking them up from the manufact belt the following morning. He demonstrates how to use them, the line of the material soft but strong against his body line. 

“As you can see, very svelte,” Junmyeon says. “And fashionable as well.” 

Sehun doesn’t know much about that kind of thing, but even with his limited knowledge, he would have to agree. The material is navy blue, piped with black and silver. It’s form-fitting, tight to Junmyeon’s body, and as he turns, Sehun feels his eyes scan along the material. 

“Good,” Kyungsoo deadpans, “because fashion is what we’re here for.” 

“Don’t be a dick,” Junmyeon says, and he puts his hands on his waist, draws attention to how narrow it is, the flare at his hips. “I just wanted us to look good and _feel_ good. Never underestimate the way fashion can affect performance.” 

Kyungsoo snorts, and Junmyeon turns his back, grabs the other two suits before throwing them at Kyungsoo and Sehun one at a time. Sehun catches his, clutches it to his chest. 

“I assume that since these are finished, we’ll have a deployment date by midnight,” Junmyeon says. “So I would ready up. Say your goodbyes if you have goodbyes to say.”Sehun rolls his eyes, and Junmyeon leaps forward, throwing an arm around Sehun’s neck until he bends to Junmyeon’s will. “I’m just kidding. We’ll be back before you know it.”  
  


♄

  
  
The deployment notice comes in the middle of the night, green and hopeful, and Sehun blinks slowly at the screen of his bracer. Two days. Sooner rather than later, he says. Best to deal with it before it gets out of hand. Best to combat it before they build it up too big in their heads. 

He stares at the ceiling until his bracer dims, the screen ticking off, and he tries to imagine a world where there is no work to be done. 

What might it look like now? He used to imagine it with Kyungsoo, but even despite the warnings, even despite the questions, he still thinks of Junmyeon now. 

He shuts his eyes, lets himself dream of another little scenario. Just him and Junmyeon in the forest. Alone and with nothing to fear.  
  


♄

  
  
After showering the following morning, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he opens his locker, finds his new suit. He feels a bit self-conscious stepping into it in front of everyone else. You get so used to dressing the same, any little bit of difference becomes a bright beacon. If the attention wasn’t on him before, _it is now_ , he thinks, zipping himself in. He looks at his own reflection for a moment before shutting the door to his locker and heading down to grab his staff. He doesn’t have time to be gawked at. He has a job to do, and he better focus. 

He keeps his mind as empty as he can manage under the circumstances, but the silverstar arrowhead at the top of his staff glows green with nervous energy as he gets to the hangar, finds Junmyeon leaning against his ship.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Junmyeon smiles, and he stands up straight. “Ready to go?” 

“Yep,” Sehun asks, and he turns, looks for Kyungsoo. “Where is he?” 

“Running late, he said,” Junmyeon says. “Unlike him.” 

_Yeah,_ Sehun thinks, eyes glued on the door, waiting for Kyungsoo to enter. _Very unlike him._

He bursts through the door a couple moments later, and Sehun studies him. He doesn’t look any different, looks good in the suit, but there’s something in his eyes that makes Sehun pause. 

“Everything okay?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Good,” Kyungsoo says. “All good.” 

“Cutting it kind of close,” Junmyeon comments. 

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo says, offering no other explanation. 

The timer ticks down, and Junmyeon gestures to each individual ship. “Well, no time like right the fuck now, boys.” He lifts himself into his ship, descends inside until the dome closes over top him. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t even look at Sehun before climbing into his own, and the numbers continue to melt away. Sehun, scared, lifts himself into his own ship, tucking his staff away as the dome comes down around him too. The air feels tight, but it isn’t because of the ship sealing. There are a few moments of dead silence, and Sehun feels every second of it. Cutting into him, making him bleed. 

_Positive energy_ , he tells himself. _Just think about the positive energy._

“Everyone knows the plan, right?” Junmyeon asks, making good use of the comms before liftoff. “We’re all on the same page, correct?” 

“Yep,” Sehun answers. 

“Yes,” Kyungsoo says, and for some reason, the tone of his voice scares Sehun. It’s so… detached. So unfamiliar. Like he’s being drowned out by a dozen other voices. 

“Okay, cool,” Junmyeon says. “Should we go over it one more time, just to make sure?” 

“Let’s just relax,” Kyungsoo says softly. “Take the minute to center ourselves.” 

The words make Sehun’s heart ache, and he closes his eyes, doing as Kyungsoo asks. It’s a good suggestion, after all. So much of the ice charms come from being focused, clear-headed. Sehun could use a moment to breathe. 

He can practically hear the way Junmyeon is vibrating out of his skin with the need to say something, but he stays quiet, and Sehun sends a silent little thank you through the stars, hoping it will find its way to Junmyeon, hoping that he’ll hear it. 

The travel does not take long at all, but once they’ve landed, Sehun can hear the difference that the silence has made. Kyungsoo sounds back to normal, like he’s his regular self. Sehun is glad of it. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if Kyungsoo, perennially put together, was the one falling apart. 

“Contact,” Kyungsoo says. “Scan says solid ground. One of the small island forms on the outskirts.” 

“Let’s go,” Junmyeon says. “He’s gonna feel the vibration of our arrival. Let’s make this one count, okay, boys?” 

Sehun hurries to disengage from his ship, grabbing his staff from the compartment at his side as the dome pulls back. The sky above him is bright blue, beautiful, and he is momentarily blinded by the star overhead, white and large. He looks around, gets his bearings as quickly as he can manage. The oceans are rolling, deep azure waters cresting with white foam, and if it weren’t for the threat of what lurks beneath, Sehun thinks he could rest on the rocky shores for quite a while and not tire of this vista. 

“Okay, prep,” Junmyeon says, and he whips out the EMS-unit, thrusts it into the ground. The scanning begins immediately, waves of red skimming over the ocean’s tides. When it beeps, he looks down, winces. He looks around, pointing to Sehun. “He’s close. Start. Now.” 

Sehun rolls his shoulders back, lines the staff up with his breastbone before thrusting the staff into the ground, sending a crack spidering along the land mass. Sehun ignores it, lets the spell build within him. He is strong, he is capable, and Minseok taught him how to do this. 

He sends a blisteringly cold charm fracturing the ocean into pieces, freezing the oceans into a block. Junmyeon monitors the device, eyes glued to the readout, and Sehun focuses on maintaining the spell, freezing the whole world over. It is a frighteningly large task that they’ve entrusted to him, and he doesn’t want to let them down. Doesn’t wanna let _him_ down. 

Sehun shuts his eyes, lets the ice build in his veins as the silverstar works, shooting out beams of ice into the fractal earth beneath their feet and for a moment, he lets himself believe that this will work. That they’ve done it correctly the first time around. 

“No movement,” Junmyeon whispers, “not even a breath.” Sehun opens his eyes, looks at Junmyeon and feels stronger than ever before. “You’re doing it. You’re _doing_ it.” 

He lets those words build him up, and he imagines himself an impenetrable shield, the first line of defense for the people he loves. He lets the ice in, lets it crystallize and form within the inside of his eyelids, in the ridges of his teeth, under his fingernails. He is made of ice, and it lives within him. Minseok will be proud. Minseok would look at him and smile. He thinks of that smile then, thinks of Minseok’s hand on his shoulder. 

Suddenly, a terrible sound rumbles beneath their feet, and Sehun’s eyes open. He looks to Junmyeon who wears a look of dawning horror. They look out over the horizon, the clear, glassy horizon, and they watch together as a giant crack crawls towards them, splitting the ice in two. The crack divides, multiples into four, eight, sixty-four like lightning branching out. 

_It’s over_ , Sehun thinks, lifting his staff from the earth. _I failed again._

“Plan B,” Junmyeon yells. “Severing. Let’s go. Just like we planned.” 

They leap across the gaps in the sporadic islands until they are spread out before the Levi, his giant maw gaping as he emerges from the icy ocean. It is like the worst kind of bad dream. Sehun stares up in dim-eyed distress as the thing screams into the air, the tentacles, hundreds and thousands of them, emerge from the deep. They glitter with ice on the slick, pale green surface of his flesh, and Sehun feels his stomach turn with dread as he centers himself. 

_Suppress those feelings_ , he tells himself. _Live through this moment, and you will see beautiful things. Lovely things._

He charges the strongest cutting spell he knows as the Levi raises his tentacles into the bright blue sky, bringing them down onto whatever’s left of the icy surface surrounding him. 

It sends a torrential downpour of water and shards of ice, and Sehun braces for impact that never comes. He keeps his charge, looks to his left. There, Junmyeon is… a bubble big enough for the three of them, shimmering black and gold. Sehun lets his charge build and build within him, imagines the tidal waves rolling and rolling, and he sends the spell just as 

The Levi sinks into the ocean just as the spell is about to collide with him, and Sehun swallows a curse, begins to charge another. 

“Let me and him try,” Junmyeon says, and he looks to Kyungsoo, building a charm of his own. “Sehun. Bubble. Protect us as we’re working on the charge.” 

“I can’t,” Sehun says. “Not for the three of us. It won’t hold. It won’t be big enough” 

“Yeah, you can,” Junmyeon promises. “Come on. It’s now or never.” 

“Please,” Sehun pleads, and the train of thought is killed as the Levi swarms, the tentacles making terrible swipes at them. 

They each leap out of the way, and it occurs to him then that he has no other choice. He will either do this and they will win, or he fails and they will die. He won’t fail again. He won’t let himself. 

He centers, he pushes, and he holds, the strongest bubble he’s ever created. It is a glimmering gold speckled with iridescent black, and it shines as the sun beams down on it, beams down on them with ethereal light. He channels that, lets it sit in his chest as he holds the bubble for as long as he possibly can, and he hears Junmyeon excitedly cheering for him at the side. 

The tentacles beat off the outside of the bubble, and it sends furious, drumming sounds vibrating along the island shores. Sehun tries to focus, looks over at Junmyeon as he builds and builds, taking aim at the Levi as it rages outside like a monsoon. 

Junmyeon lets out a scream as he sends the severing spell at the Levi, and Sehun waits with bated breath as he watches the spell, spiraling red energy, collide with the atrocity, the Devastation before them. 

He emits a terrible hissing sound when Junmyeon’s spell makes contact with his tentacle, but instead of severing cleanly, it only leaves a deep cut, bleeding out navy blue, almost so blue it appears black. 

“Fuck,” Junmyeon curses, and he screams at them. “Hold the spell. Cut him deep.” 

The attack sends the Levi into a dangerous spiral, and it turns in the water, making the ocean twist like a vortex. Sehun watches in horror as the islands slowly begin to shift underfoot, and Sehun looks at Kyungsoo, looks at Junmyeon as they realize what’s happening. _He’s breaking through the rock. The islands will sink._

Sehun panics, begins a frenetic spray of ice casting, and he watches as the bergs he creates are sucked into the vortex along with everything else. It descends into the hungry maw of the Levi, and Sehun imagines them being pulled into it like everything pulled into a black hole, spaghettified and stretched for eternity and eternities beyond their own. 

“We need an anchor,” Kyungsoo says, and he leaps across the islands until Junmyeon is closing in with him, approaching Sehun on the trembling rock. “We need something to hold us in one spot.” 

“We’ll never be able to,” Junmyeon whispers, and his breath is coming quickly now, labored. “The water’s too strong. If it’s knocking out landforms, it can… it can break the hold of anything.” 

“No,” Kyungsoo says. “No, not _anything._ ” He turns, gestures back. “Sehun. Give me a block.” 

“You’ll get sucked in,” Sehun says. “No, you… you can’t.” 

“Just do it,” Kyungsoo says. “This is the only way.” 

Sehun has no idea what Kyungsoo’s plan is, but the ground begins to shift and crack underfoot, and he knows that means they don’t have time to sit around and wonder about what to do. He casts the strongest ice spell he can, and Kyungsoo leaps onto it without another word as Junmyeon and Sehun watch him in awe. In that moment, nothing compares to Kyungsoo, the way he moves, the way he brings his staff into the air before thrusting it down into the iceberg, shattering it into a million pieces. 

Sehun screams, screams his name, but just as the iceberg falls apart into ice dust, another small island ascends from the depths of the ocean. It catches him just as his lifeless body is about to fall into the swirling waves, and Sehun’s mouth falls open as he jumps across the gap to kneel at Kyungsoo’s side. 

His eyes are closed, the energy zapped from him, and Sehun, heart in his mouth, taps at his bracer. Kyungsoo’s heart is steady, but he’s been knocked unconscious. 

“Wake up,” Sehun says, and he tries to swallow over the lump in his throat. “Kyungsoo, wake up. Wake up, you did it. Come on. We have to fight.” 

“Watch him,” Junmyeon commands, and Sehun looks back over his shoulder as Junmyeon stands on the loosening rock. “Stay here, bubble for the both of you, and make sure nothing happens to him.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Sehun says. 

“Good thing I’m not asking for your permission,” Junmyeon winks. 

He leaps forward into the air as he casts ice beneath his feet, a terribly strong spell that lances through the ocean deep, giving him a narrow window to run across it. The hurricaning seas rage beside him, and Sehun finds it difficult to look anywhere but where he is. He tells himself to focus, tells himself that there are more important things to tend to. 

Sehun’s hands are shaking as he fiddles for the mini-medmach at his thigh, and he sets it on Kyungsoo’s chest, the micromachines flying into the air and circling his body like flies. It is a worrying sight to behold, but they immediately begin to work, getting underneath the skin tight fabric of his suit. Sehun turns back, looks at Junmyeon. He centers, he pushes, he holds, and a bright gold dome appears around the pair of them, so thick and strong that Sehun wonders if he’s not been replaced by another agent in his sleep. 

Through the reflective gold, he can see Junmyeon sending a lightshow at the Levi, spells of red and blue and green. He is a magician, casting ice below his feet as he dances, and once he is onto another block, the one he left shatters behind him. It is like nothing Sehun has ever seen before, masterful work, and he sits there in awe, mouth hanging open as Junmyeon sets up his severing spells, sliding across the ice like a skater. 

One of the tentacles, larger than most of the rest, shadows over him, and Sehun holds his breath as it bars Junmyeon from sight. His mind goes into overdrive as the milliseconds tick by, and the opaque, lustrous gold of the bubble wavers just long enough for Sehun to see it, see the wonder in it. Junmyeon swings his staff like it’s a fucking sword, and with one clean motion, the severing spell slices the tentacle off at the root, bleeding dark, navy blood. 

It hisses and screams, the stump where the tentacle should be twitching in pain, and Sehun’s bubble strengthens with every screech that rings through the open air. Junmyeon is a fighter at heart, and Sehun watches him work, slicing off tentacles as he uses the swirling waters to navigate expertly, almost like he’s trained for this exact situation. Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, Sehun thinks _That’s what a black suit looks like_ , proudly watching as Junmyeon deals with the atrocity single-handedly. 

Suddenly, the oceans still, and Sehun’s gaze is drawn to Junmyeon once more. Was it some kind of spell? Did he cast a standstill? 

“Fuck,” Junmyeon says through the comms, and fear sinks heavy in Sehun’s stomach. 

“Hey,” Sehun says, and he speaks directly to Junmyeon then. “Hey, what’s going o—” 

Two more tentacles sprout from each wound, the number of tentacles nearly doubling within the minute, and Sehun’s mouth falls open with dull horror as one takes Junmyeon easily in its clutches. Junmyeon’s scream pierces through Sehun’s ear, and the bubble drops immediately. 

Sehun looks at Kyungsoo’s body. Looks at his heart monitor. He is alive. He is asleep, but he is alive. 

He’s done all he can do for Kyungsoo. And if he waits here any longer, they’ll all die. 

He is frozen in fear for a second, paralyzed by the choice, and he squeezes his eyes shut. Junmyeon wants him to fight. Junmyeon wants him to win. 

He opens his eyes, commits himself to life. To living and winning. 

Sehun stands, staff in hand, and he uses the same technique that Junmyeon used. He leaps, shooting ice underfoot as he gets as close as physically possible to the Levi. He feels a lot less agile than Junmyeon looked, but he tries to put it out of his mind, keeping his eyes on Junmyeon’s body hovering in the air. He is attempting to cast, Sehun realizes, haphazard killing curses aimed at the maw of the monster, but he swallows them easily, like it’s nothing. 

Sehun takes up Junmyeon’s work, careful to send the severing spells everywhere but the tentacle that is wrapped around Junmyeon’s body. Sehun thinks he might get a moment of respite, but the monster moves, angry and hateful, and he gets no rest, has to move, duck, dodge from the tentacles that writhe and regrow. 

“Fuck,” Sehun says, “it’s not working. It’s not _working_.” 

“Then try something _else_ , idiot,” Junmyeon screeches. “I’m damseling!” 

“Right.” Sehun says, and he thinks to himself as he moves, losing control of his breathing as he huffs hard, dancing across shattering blocks of ice. He turns to the creature, about to send a bubble to hold it, but then, as though they are magnetized to each other, a large tentacle wraps him around the middle, hoists him up into the air. 

_I lost_ , he thinks, and the staff falls from his hand as his face twists in anguish. 

The tentacles swirl above them, a stormcloud of forest green, and they wrap around him, constricting him, make him start to cough. Tight around his middle. He can’t catch his breath once he’s lost it, and he gasps brokenly, sounds like crackling paper as he realizes his rib cage is shattering, sending blistering, spidering pain across his universe. His brain starts spitting out images and sounds to further injure him. 

Cold blue and white, and the snapping of organic material. Sticks and bones. The smell of marrow in the open air. Blood vessels connected to a dead heart. Bleeding, bleeding, blue blood. Water, salt from eyes. Oh, he is dying. He is dying. He can’t hardly believe it. 

He thinks he is about one second from totally losing his mind. 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon calls, and Sehun has enough time, enough mental acuity to look at him, to see the way the tentacles of the Levi twist around him, circling his neck. “Come on. _Cast_.” It is the last word he is able to say before his mouth is covered, the long, thick tentacle both deafening him and blinding him as it curls around his head. For a terrible second, Sehun thinks that maybe the creature will begin to constrict, but it seems to… seems to _protect_ Junmyeon, cradling him in its hold. 

Frantically, buzzing with adrenaline, Sehun looks around him. 

His staff is long gone, sunk to the bottom of the pool below them, but he can cast without it. He can. Junmyeon taught him how. Junmyeon taught him what he knows now. 

He focuses his energy, what energy he has left inside him, and pushes it to the center of his body. He is one. Three are one. He gathers what energy he can from them, takes it, and hopes that they’ll understand. He wants to do the saving for once in his life. He wants to be the hero. 

He pushes out a rippling gold wave that sizzles and cauterizes the tentacles that surround him and Junmyeon. The Levi screeches, recoils. Free from the hold of the Levi, he plummets him into the sea, arms across his chest as he holds, as he holds on for dear life. 

He breaks through the surface of the water like a knife, the bubble around him shattering. The velocity slows as the water cushions him, and as soon as he touches the bottom of the pool, he calls his staff to him. It flies into his hand, and in the next moment, he is flying back through the water. When he breaks through the surface of the water, he casts the strongest ice spell he knows, lands on it as lightly as he can manage. Getting his feet beneath him, he casts a bubble around Kyungsoo, enveloping him in lustrous gold, and then, after the Levi has dropped his body, Sehun sends another to circle around Junymeon and calls his body home. 

He emerges from the water gasping, coughing up sludge and seawater, and Sehun panics as he watches Junmyeon struggle, a strange sort of yellowing slime dripping down his face. His face twists in discomfort, and any sort of humor Sehun would have derived from such an image quickly evaporates like water on a hot surface. 

“Again,” Junmyeon commands, but no, it actually sounds more like a plea. It stabs into Sehun’s heart. “Come on. Come on, _anything_. I can’t… I can’t think, I’m—” 

He’s hurt, Sehun realizes, looking at the way his legs are crumpled up like paper. His bones crushed. Maybe he’s dying. _No,_ Sehun thinks. _Anything but that._

The Levi approaches with a tidal wave at its back, and Sehun thinks now or never. Now or never. 

In that moment, it is the only spell he can think of, the only thing he thinks will have a chance of actually working. He waves his staff in the way that has become second nature to him now, confident that, at the very least, the beginning will work as it was meant to. 

At first, Sehun looks around, confused by the stillness. Usually, the effect is immediate. He wonders if he should try again, cast again, but as soon as that thought enters his head, large shoots of crystalline rock spear through the water, spreading like crawling hunger. The water turns to crystal, the rolling sheet of water shattered as the pink quartz lances through. The Levi scrambles back whence it came, but it is soon speared through its stomach with a wild crystalline pike. It hisses in pain, the sound of steam whistling and escaping, and its tentacles shiver and curl in on themselves as the crystals begin to decimate it, eat him alive. 

Sehun turns back to look for Junmyeon, and he waves his staff to call Junmyeon over to him, the golden bubble keeping him alive, away from the spell. He hovers in the air as the Crystym works, devouring everything in its path. 

Sehun watches in horror as the thing cries for mercy, and he stands there, does nothing but move Junmyeon to Kyungsoo’s solid ground in silence. The crystals crawl like bugs, creeping, shuddering, and they eat everything they touch, everything. It is a mesmerizing sight, one that lulls Sehun into a kind of hypnosis, and he doesn’t even realize that the small rocky land they stand on are next to be devoured, not until Junmyeon lazily waves his hands, sends the whole world of crystal into a wind of glittering dust. 

Sehun looks down at Junmyeon in awe. How does he manage to do this? How does he always manage to be the best person in the room?

“We really have to teach you how to stop that one,” Junmyeon smiles sleepily, and he touches his face, a slice of red from the corner of his mouth to his cheek. The crystal must have gotten him. _Shit._ Sehun’s face must twist into worry because Junmyeon reaches out, brushes his bloody fingers along Sehun’s cheek. It is a strange moment, no less intimate because of its strangeness. “I’m okay. Nothing a medmach can’t fix.” 

“I know, you just—” 

“What?” 

“I’m sorry,” Sehun says. “I’m always fucking things up.” 

“You saved _me_ for a change,” Junmyeon says. “I think that’s pretty good. I think you’re evening the score.” He stares up at Sehun, moves his bloodied hand around in a looping circle. “You got something on your face, you slob.” 

Sehun hiccups through a laugh, and he goes back to where he left Kyungsoo to rest. He grabs the medmach, brings it back over to Junmyeon. He sets it at his side, asks him questions, but Junmyeon hushes them all away. 

“Later,” Junmyeon says, and he tries to sit up, but he winces in pain, lies back down on the rock. “Later. Just… let’s get out of here, okay?” 

“Once you’re good,” Sehun says. “I’ll carry you if I have to.” 

“That’s so sweet,” Junmyeon whispers, and the micromachines buzz in the air over him. “Ah. My friends.” They inject him with something, a pain serum, Sehun assumes, because his body once tight and anguished immediately goes loose and pliable. “That’s the good stuff. Oh, shit.” 

At their back, Kyungsoo stirs, a soft sound of confusion filtering through the comms, and Sehun turns, a smile splitting across his face. 

“You’re all right,” Sehun says, and tears immediately leap to his eyes as he tries to comfort Kyungsoo. “You’re okay.” 

“I’m good, I’m good,” Kyungsoo says, waving away his concern. “Sorry, I—” 

“You gave us a fighting chance,” Sehun says. “We wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for you.” 

“Don’t just say that.” Kyungsoo closes his eyes, looks vaguely regretful. “I should have…” 

“You did so much for us.” Sehun takes Kyungsoo’s hand in his. Squeezes it tight. “I can’t… we can’t thank you enough. I’m serious.” 

Eyes still closed, a pleased smile pushes onto Kyungsoo’s face. Curiously, his hand in Sehun’s squeezes back. A pleased little beam of warmth laces through Sehun’s rib cage, and he laughs, like a spit of air rising up out of the ocean. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Junmyeon says, and when Sehun checks on him, the scar across his cheek is cleaned and glued back together, almost like it was never there. Still, he speaks kind of funny, and it makes Sehun’s smile grow. “But I’ve got a crushed breastbone over here, so if one of you could navigate me towards a ship so I could get an _actual_ medmach to work on me, that would be just absolutely splendiferous.” 

Sehun chokes out another laugh, and he goes to Junmyeon, tacking the mini-medmach back onto his leg before hoisting Junmyeon up into the air, an arm under his knees and under his arms. 

“Funny meeting you here,” Junmyeon comments breathily. 

“Isn’t a bone sticking into your lungs?” Sehun asks. 

“That’s no reason not to…,” and he coughs, face twisting up in pain before he slaps a coat of happy paint on it, “flirt with you.” 

“You are bleeding in your lungs, and that isn’t enough to stop you?” 

“Nothing,” Junmyeon says, and he lays his head on Sehun’s shoulder, smiling up at him. “Nothing’s enough to stop me. I’m coming for you, baby. Get ready.”

“Okay,” Sehun laughs. “Okay.” 

He moves as easily, as gently as he can before he kicks the ship, gets it to open up for him. Sehun climbs up the rungs on the outside, lowering Junmyeon into the pit before sealing him up. 

“Pneumothorax and pulmonary hemorrhage. Surgical repair will take approximately one minute and thirty seconds to complete,” the ship informs him. 

“See you in approximately one minute and thirty seconds,” Junmyeon says, and his face disappears from sight as the dome builds back up over him, airlocked and tight. 

Sehun slowly steps down from the ship, goes back over to Kyungsoo, and finds him kneeling at the edge of the water. 

“What are you doing?” Sehun asks, looking over his shoulder. 

“I saw something,” Kyungsoo says. “Look. There it is. What the fuck is that?” He points, some kind of black box floating at the bottom of the pool. “Sehun, grab it.” 

Sehun immediately leaps forward, sticks his hand into the water, and grabs the box. It is made from a curiously heavy material, and he turns it over in his hand, studying the inscription. 

“I can’t read this,” Sehun says, and he runs the tip of his glove over the engraved lettering, loopy and swirling. He shows it to Kyungsoo. “Do you… do you know this one?” 

“Lemme try the scanner,” Kyungsoo says. 

“I got that,” Junmyeon says over the comms. “Stop investigating without me. I’m almost done. They’re practically patching me up.” 

“Relax and get surgery,” Sehun says. “We’ll show you later.” 

“No, no, I wanna help.” Sehun looks over, sees the dome unfurling from around Junmyeon. “See, all good!” 

He points to his suit, completely intact, and Sehun rolls his eyes. 

“We’ll bring it back for closer inspection,” Sehun says. “Now’s not the time.” 

“It’s always the time,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun narrows his eyes, noting the slight slur in his voice. “The time is now!” 

“You’re still drugged,” Kyungsoo laughs. 

“I’m not,” Junmyeon says, and he struggles to roll up the sleeve of his skin tight suit, annoyed with the way it clings to him. “Here.” He slaps his forearm once it’s bared. “Check me.” 

“You want me to drug test you?” Kyungsoo asks, swallowing a laugh. 

Junmyeon lurches forward, almost tumbling to the ground, but Sehun manages to catch him, throwing Junmyeon’s arm over his shoulders, holding most of his weight. 

“I don’t have _anything_ to hide,” Junmyeon says, jabbing a finger in Kyungsoo’s general direction. “Get me?” 

“I got you,” Kyungsoo snorts. 

“Help me get him back to the ship,” Sehun asks, and Kyungsoo approaches from the opposite side, Junmyeon’s other arm wrapped around his neck. He cranes his neck, looks around Junmyeon to Kyungsoo. “Okay, you good?” 

“I’m _exceptional_ ,” Junmyeon says. “Surrounded by extremely handsome men, light as a fuckin’ feather. I am floating in the astral plane with the souldust.” 

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Sehun says. 

“I’m good,” Kyungsoo says. 

The three of them limp off, and Sehun lowers Junmyeon down into his ship, and as the dome shuts over him, Junmyeon aims a dopey little smile up at Sehun. For some reason, Sehun stands there on the ship rungs for longer than is strictly necessary, only getting down once Kyungsoo calls his name. 

They get into their ships, and they fly through galaxies. Sehun closes his eyes, tries to forget just how on the edge they were. If he thinks about it too long, he’ll lose his nerve.  
  


♄

  
  
The ship system announces their landing, and Sehun stretches. He still homes some random aches and pains, but he will check himself into a medmach, run some tests. _After a shower_ , he thinks. He must stink like the bottom of the ocean. 

The dome peels back, and exhaustion precludes him from moving immediately. He sits there, gathering up all the physical energy he has left before pushing out of the pit. He grabs his staff, uses it to lift himself up, and once he sticks his head out, he realizes that this arrival is not like the rest. 

The Agency has gathered, hundreds of them, maybe even a thousand or more crammed into the hangar, and they are applauding. Thunderous applause. Deafening and booming against the metal-lined walls. Sehun looks over, sees Kyungsoo shuddering away from the sound, and Sehun understands viscerally. 

They climb down from their ships, and they are immediately surrounded, people clapping them on the shoulders and the back, ruffling their hair, touching them. Sehun tries to split through the crowd, try to get to either one of them, but it is too dense, and there is nowhere to go. He feels claustrophobic in the moment, panic rising in his throat. 

Suddenly, a clear path appears, and at the end, Junmyeon is waving his staff in front of him like a crazy person, getting the agents to move out of his way. “Come on,” he says, and he nods towards the medmach along the wall. “You gotta get in.” 

“I’m okay,” Sehun says, but when the words come out of his mouth, he knows he is not fooling anyone. 

He follows Junmyeon and Kyungsoo follows close behind him, and by the time they get to the medmach, the panic has subsided. 

“Better?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon stabs his fingers at the panel on the front, keying in tests for the machine to run. “In you get.” Junmyeon turns back, looks at the crowd behind them. “Swear to god, someone has some explaining to do.” 

“What do you mean?” Sehun asks, hand braced on the medmach before stepping through the doors. 

Junmyeon gestures to the flood of agents still standing by their ships. “Makes no fucking sense.” 

“It’s fine,” Kyungsoo says. “They’re just excited to see that we’re alive.” 

“Sure,” Junmyeon says, clearly still very unhappy. He looks back at Sehun. “What are you still doing here?” He pushes him gently. “Get in.” 

Sehun steps into the medmach, closes his eyes as the doors shut, and he dreams about nothing as the tests run, spit out their answers, build him back up like such a thing is possible at this point.  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun thought the greeting might be a one-off. 

He didn’t realize just how much their collective reputation had risen. 

“That’s because you don’t _talk_ to people who aren’t in your triad,” Junmyeon says, and he is in the middle of gathering his things, shoving his small collection of belongings into Sehun’s arms. “If you had friends—”

“I have friends,” Sehun assures him. 

“I don’t count,” Junmyeon says, “and neither does Kyungsoo.” 

“There’s uh, there’s a guy in my cabin.” 

“Former cabin,” Junmyeon notes. “What’s the guy’s name?” 

“Um.” 

“Um?” Junmyeon asks. “Kind of a weird name.” 

“That’s not his name,” Sehun scowls. 

“Then what _is_ his name,” Junmyeon says. “Since you’re so close.” 

“His name is—” 

“You don’t even know his name, and you consider him your friend,” Junmyeon laughs. “Unbelievable.” 

“Keep it up, and I’ll be down to _one_ friend,” Sehun threatens. He looks around the cabin. “Besides, why didn’t you ask Kyungsoo to help too?” 

Junmyeon shrugs his shoulder. “I don’t have much.” He looks at Sehun, smiles. “Want more time with your boyfriend?” 

“He’s not my—hey, fuck you,” Sehun says, and he carries Junmyeon’s box out of the cabin, follows him. 

There aren’t just drawbacks that come along with their reputation, Sehun learns. There are perks too. Along with his promotion, a new, nearly black suit, they are gifted special residence dorms to give them some more privacy. Sehun appreciates this most of all as he isn’t incredibly fond of the way people stare at him no matter what he’s doing. 

Sehun didn’t have much to move, doesn’t collect things the way Junmyeon collects, but when he walks into Junmyeon’s room, he is distressed by the way it looks so sterile, so carbon-copied from his own room. 

“This will be nice, but it will also be sort of bad,” Junmyeon says, and he takes his items from Sehun, sets the case on the bed before sitting down next to it. 

“Bad how?” 

Junmyeon dangles his feet off the bed, looks incredibly young for a moment. “I dunno. Just sort of liked living with other people. I feel like they’re trying to cut us off.” 

“Isn’t that the point?” Sehun asks, and he furrows his brow. “People are insane.” 

“No, come on,” Junmyeon scoffs. “That’s you giving in to your antisocial tendencies.” 

“It’s not antisocial, it's just… well, it’s a little of that,” Sehun agrees. “More than anything, I just don’t want to—” 

“Branch out? Experience new things? Have a support system for when things go badly?” 

“Shut up,” Sehun says. “I don’t _have_ to help you.” 

“I know, I know,” Junmyeon smiles. “But you did, and I am in your debt.” 

Sehun smiles, looks at his boots. “Then I’ll save it for when I need it.” 

“Oh no,” Junmyeon says, hands on his heart. “That sounds dangerous.” 

“You never know.” Sehun’s bracer pings, and he looks at it, sees Kyungsoo’s number flash. “Come on. He paged us.” 

“Ooh, I love this part.” He springs up off the bed, opening the door, and holding his arm out. “After you.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, but he steps through first, Junmyeon following him on their way to the reading room. They fall into step, the comforting sound of their boots against the floor. Junmyeon walks closely to him, so close that Sehun can feel the heat of his body. But maybe it’s just that he’s thinking about it too much, hyperaware of everything Junmyeon does. 

It still scares him, this feeling. Knowing that he will inevitably fall for Junmyeon. Let something terrible overtake him. Is he this weak? He still can’t control his own emotions?

“I really hate when you do that.” 

Sehun looks at him. “Do what?” 

“Think so loud that I can hear you,” Junmyeon says, and he looks at Sehun. “What’s on your mind?” 

“Just thinking about the box,” Sehun lies. 

“Ah,” Junmyeon says, and he spreads his hands out in front of him as they approach the lifter. “What mysteries might unfold? What secrets and wonders?” 

“You’re annoying.” 

“Annoying, yes, but you do love me,” Junmyeon says, and he shakes his head. “A personal failing of truly massive proportion on your behalf.” 

Sehun shoves his shoulder into Junmyeon as they walk, and Junmyeon shoves his shoulder back into Sehun’s. 

Kyungsoo is already inside the room once they arrive, and he stares at them for a tense moment before he waves them over. “Come look.” 

Junmyeon approaches first, peering over Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “Whoa.” 

Sehun moves in closer, intrigued by the way Junmyeon seemed genuinely surprised by what he saw. 

What lies before them is a small, unassuming looking black box. The whole thing is so small that it fits neatly inside Kyungsoo’s hand, and if it opens, Sehun can’t find the seam. It is the sort of thing Sehun remembers from his tech classes, accident reports, data recorders that will automatically spray the galaxy with last words. _Remember us. Remember what happened._

A little shiver runs up Sehun’s spine as they stare down at it, and Kyungsoo fiddles with it, flips it over in his hand. On the bottom, there is an inscription, and the letter lines are so small you wouldn’t even notice if you weren’t looking for them. He picks up his scanner from the table, and Junmyeon is about to cut him off with something smart, Sehun is sure, but the language scanner’s response is instantaneous. 

“That never happens,” Sehun says. “We never just… _get_ information.” 

“Yeah, I don’t trust any clues that come to us easily,” Junmyeon smiles. 

“It’s Udashi,” Kyungsoo says. “Shit, Udashi… where’s that from?” 

“Lemme look,” Sehun says, and he starts keying the information into his bracer, but Junmyeon is quicker, tapping something in and projecting it in front of them. 

“Udashana,” Junmyeon says, and he looks at Kyungsoo, raising a brow as the planet turns in front of them. “This projection is from a week ago.” 

It looks like any other planet to Sehun. Rocky terrain, some light greenery. It looks busy, looks lively. A place to go and work and play and live. 

“Can’t you get a current projection?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“The deep space cameras in the galaxy were all destroyed,” Junmyeon says. He jabs his finger towards the projection. “That’s where we’re headed.” 

“We should listen to the recording,” Kyungsoo says. “See if there’s any clue about what’s waiting for us.” 

“How do you play those?” Sehun asks. Junmyeon stares at him blankly. “What?” 

“You’ve never used a black box before?” 

“No,” Sehun says. “They’re sort of… outdated, aren’t they?” 

“I’m a hundred million years old,” Junmyeon says, hand braced against his forehead. “I’m so old that I can see time itself.” 

“You’re so annoying.” 

Junmyeon grins, grabs the box from Kyungsoo’s hand. He flips it over, turns it so that it looks like a four-cornered diamond. He taps the north end, the south, then the east and the west, and then suddenly, the room erupts into the sounds of war. 

They hear a drum, booming, pounding. The screams of children, terrified whines that crawl up your back. Sehun curls his hand into a fist, closes his eyes, and tries not to picture it. Furious screams sound, commands relayed, and they hear the death of a society. They hear every last voice silenced, no matter how passionate and good. 

A laugh, pitched low. Callous and cruel. 

“Find us,” the voice says. “Come and find us.” 

Kyungsoo immediately takes the black box from Junmyeon’s hand, taps in the code so that they can listen to it again. 

“Why the drums?” Sehun asks. 

“It’s not a drum, idiot,” Junmyeon says, and he balls up his fist, punches Sehun in the shoulder. “It’s a tank cannon.” 

They’re sheltered here. Not everyone has access to the advanced ancient technology that they have access to. Not everyone has been taught in the ways of magic. Not everyone has had his opportunity, his chance. He imagines being in an army, an army with laserbullets and tank cannons and artillery. Imagines not knowing what he knows now. Imagines being mowed over like it was nothing. Another life lost, just one more. 

“Find us,” the distorted voice repeats. “Come and find us.” 

It’s stupid, but the voice sounds curiously familiar, like… like a voice that he knows. 

“That’s so weird,” Junmyeon says, and he furrows his brow. “Play it one more time?” 

Kyungsoo taps the black box. Junmyeon holds out his bracer, and the wavelengths dance, the voice hanging heavy in the air, distorted but nearly recognizable. 

“We should run it through some filters,” Kyungsoo suggests. “See what comes back.” 

“Run it against some databases too,” Junmyeon says. “I dunno. You might find something.” 

“Better than nothing,” Kyungsoo shrugs. “Okay, break for the day? We can go do some individual research, and come back tomorrow with whatever we find.”

“You know there is nothing I love more than show and tell,” Junmyeon smiles. “Sounds good. I’m starving anyway. I had to move all my stuff.” 

“ _I_ moved all your stuff,” Sehun says. 

“You aided,” Junmyeon says. 

The voice plays in Sehun’s head, over and over again. He goes through the rest of his day in a dull-eyed haze, not finding much of anything but not really looking either. Junmyeon and Kyungsoo will lead as they always do, he figures. He’s fine. He closes his eyes. Thinks of the voice. 

As Sehun sits in the abandoned library later in the evening, he taps on his bracer, highlighting his messages from Junmyeon. He sent the recording he took, so Sehun forwards to the end, to the haunting voice. He sits back in his chair, stares at the ceiling and listens over and over again. Over and over. The same six words. _Find us. Come and find us._ He listens so many times, and by the end, he wonders why he’s bothering. 

“You still here?” 

Sehun jumps in his seat, turns to see Junmyeon at the edge of the library, a reader tucked in his arm, his bag hanging off one shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Lost track of time.” 

“You’re telling me,” Junmyeon says. “Do you know what time it is?” 

Sehun taps his bracer. _Zero three hundred._

“Shit,” Sehun says, and he gets up, stuffs all his things back into his bag. 

“Did you fall asleep?” Junmyeon teases. “You have a new fancy cabin for that, you know.” 

“Shut up.” He slings his pack over his shoulders, and they fall into step with each other. “Did you find anything good?” 

Junmyeon shrugs. “Maybe a few things. We’ll see if it leads anywhere. Come, let us find the sleeping place, the _dreaming_ realm.” 

Sehun falls quiet, and he listens as Junmyeon talks about the destruction of the planet, the Devastation that’s probably taken up residence. He lets his vision go fuzzy as he puts it all together. Piece by piece. 

As they are walking, the garbled words running through his head, Sehun realizes who the voice must belong to. Realizes who spoke the words. Who has almost certainly been leading them on this chase all along. 

The voice, the distorted, mangled voice… it belongs to Junmyeon.  
  


♄

  
  
Only once he’s back to his cabin does he send a message to Kyungsoo. He can’t sit on such knowledge, can’t reconcile it. Is this why Junmyeon always seems one step ahead of them? Is this why Junmyeon always seems to know exactly what to do in any given situation? It’s easy to keep your head above water if you’re the one controlling the waves.

 _Come to my cabin,_ Sehun writes. _I want to talk to you about something._

_Talk here,_ Kyungsoo writes back.

 _Too important for text._

Sehun sees the message delivered, and he taps onto Kyungsoo’s number, watches his pin start to move. It only takes a few minutes for him to cross through the halls to where Sehun meets him, dark and mysterious. 

“What’s up?” Kyungsoo asks, eyes sleepy, jumpsuit wrinkled. 

“I think we have to start being more careful,” Sehun suggests. 

“Careful about what?” 

Sehun gets close, and Kyungsoo steps into his embrace as Sehun puts his lips to Kyungsoo’s ear, whispering so quietly that Sehun can barely even hear himself speak. 

“Junmyeon,” he says, and Kyungsoo draws back sharply. “I don’t trust him.”

“What do you mean? W-Why?” 

“Is it just me?” Sehun asks. 

“Just you what?” 

“The recording. It sounded… sounded familiar, didn’t it?” Sehun says, and he scoots closer to Kyungsoo. “Sounded like… well, it sounded like _Junmyeon_ , didn’t it?” 

Kyungsoo wrinkles his brow. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Listen back to it,” Sehun suggests. “You’ll see what I’m talking about.” 

“H-Hey, I don’t know if this is something we should be… thinking about,” Kyungsoo says, and he nervously fidgets with his hands. “I don’t know if this—”

“Think about it,” Sehun says. “Think, seriously. Doesn’t it make sense? Doesn’t it—” 

“Sehun,” Kyungsoo says, and he grabs Sehun by the shoulders, presses him against the door to the cabin. It shocks the words right out of Sehun’s mouth, and he goes stupidly quiet. “Just go… go get some rest. You’ve been thinking too much.” 

“R-Right, okay,” Sehun says, and he shakes his head. “You’re right. Just been… looking at a screen for too long maybe.” 

He is met with a rare, blinding smile, and it makes his skin itch with how much he wants to kiss Kyungsoo then. It makes Sehun forget all about Junmyeon, all about the way his stomach hurt when Junmyeon got close enough to kiss him.

“Night,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun is frozen in place as he watches Kyungsoo walk off back to his cabin, the night thick and terrible with intrigue.  
  


♄

  
  
From then on, Sehun begins to record all of Junmyeon’s habits, all of his mannerisms in an attempt to find out what’s really going on with him. Funnily enough, it makes Sehun spend more time with him that he would in any other circumstance, and they already spend quite a bit of time together. 

Junmyeon is not stupid, of course. Junmyeon notices little things, takes stock of them. He lets Sehun continue his observations, content to walk the quad with him after Second, walk back from the cafeteria and the training room and library together, even go to the ent-center together. Sehun’s only visited a handful of times early on in his career when Minseok and Kyungsoo wanted to drag him off to some exhibit about lasers. 

They sit next to each other in the domed theater, the squishy seats cradling them like children, and Sehun turns his head to look at Junmyeon. 

“Do you hate this as much as I think you hate this?” Junmyeon asks, the hypercolor animation on the screen above them painting him red, blue, yellow, purple, green. “You look like you hate this.” 

“I don’t hate it,” Sehun says. “I wouldn’t be here if I hated it.” 

Junmyeon turns back to face the screen, and his side profile is especially striking when it’s drenched in streaming ultraviolet light. “You’re funny.” 

“Funny?” Sehun whispers, suddenly aware of the other agents in the theater with them. “Funny how?” 

“Just funny,” Junmyeon says cryptically. He looks out of his peripheral and then back to the screen. “Watch the show.” 

Sehun turns his head accordingly, watches the strange little cartoon play out. Sehun doesn’t get it, but if Junmyeon’s here, he’ll follow.  
  


♄

  
  
Junmyeon lets it go on for several days, and Sehun doesn’t find much of anything. He does everything almost perfectly normal like the rest of the agents, follows his schedule, does his training. Sehun doesn’t understand it much at all, and he wonders how they might have gotten Junmyeon’s voice in that vocoder. Maybe they’re being watched? Maybe they took him, wiped his memory? Surely there has to be an explanation that doesn’t mean that Junmyeon is the villain. Not Junmyeon.

“Why are you following me around?” Junmyeon asks suddenly, Kyungsoo at his left, Sehun across from him at the cafe table. 

“W-What?” 

“Just the past couple days,” Junmyeon says. “You’ve been shadowing me. Like, to an absurd degree.” 

Sehun looks at Kyungsoo, sees him roll his eyes. “I don’t know,” Sehun says. “I don’t… I wasn’t following you, I just—” 

“Okay, okay,” Junmyeon smiles. “No need to descend into an anxiety attack.” 

“I _wasn’t_ ,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon laughs and shoves his shoulder into Kyungsoo’s, making him too sputter out a laugh. Junmyeon has a way of dispelling tension that Sehun wishes he could master, but maybe that’s just another curious thing about him, too perfect to be real.  
  


♄

  
  
They are sitting in the library together. They know that the Swarm has not moved, only grown on its home planet. Now, they must figure out if they will face the Pale Death or the nameless, faceless one. You can’t get a plan of attack going if you have no idea what you’re up against. At least, that’s what Junmyeon says. 

Sehun stares at the wall as Junmyeon works, and most of the time, they sit in silence, but occasionally, Junmyeon will spear through that with some question that completely catches Sehun off guard. 

“Picked it up?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Picked what up?” 

“The reader I gave you.” He gestures to Sehun’s bag. “Interviews.” 

Sehun squints as he looks back in his memory, tries to remember. It hits him squarely. Back when they first met. _Interviews with the Agency._

“I haven’t really had time for light reading lately,” Sehun says. “Sorry.” 

“It’s not exactly _light_ ,” Junmyeon smiles. He shrugs a shoulder, casual, like it doesn’t matter to him. “I dunno. I thought you might find it interesting. _Illuminating._ ” 

There is something about the way he says it that makes Sehun want to push Junmyeon against a wall, suck a kiss to his neck. 

Sehun blinks quickly, wheels his seat backwards. 

“Y-Yeah,” he says. “Maybe, uh, maybe I’ll give it a look tonight.” 

“Before bed,” Junmyeon says, and the suggestion is wonderful and terrible all at the same time. He looks up and down Sehun’s body, letting his gaze run like phantom hands under Sehun’s suit. “Just a thought.” 

Sehun doesn’t know why Junmyeon is doing this to him, taunting him like he knows the thoughts inside his head, but it drives him crazy, makes him want to do something rash and stupid. And that’s why Junmyeon is so very bad for him, so dangerous. He appeals to something deep inside Sehun, some deep desire to let go completely, let his emotions take over. 

On the walk back to his cabin, Sehun takes the time alone to calm himself down, focus on the centering exercises, on the suppression exercises. He thinks of Kyungsoo, what Kyungsoo would say. _Don’t let your emotions win. Don’t let them control you._

Sehun walks into the cabin, happy that he’s got the place to himself now. He doesn’t have to wonder about whether people are staring at him. About if he’s being watched. If they’re reporting on him. 

At the head of his bed, he grabs the reader from Junmyeon, untouched since the day he received it. It’s not like he’s had a great opportunity for this sort of thing, but if Junmyeon thinks it’s important, it probably is. He’s almost always right, Sehun’s learned. It’s a little scary. 

Still, it makes him wonder. He doesn’t think he imagined it, the sound of Junmyeon’s voice. The tone, clearly pitch-shifted. What does that mean for him? For the way he feels about Junmyeon? He knows he needs to keep his distance more than ever, but he still feels the draw. Now more than ever, he thinks. 

What does that make him? 

He turns the reader on, flips through the first couple of ridiculous pages before he finds something interesting. 

_Upon first devising the need for the Agency as a whole, we knew that we would need highly skilled, highly driven agents to dispatch to the most dangerous places in the world. And so, our initial design for the Agency was completely and totally android-based._

_What the droids were missing was always the exceedingly human element, a connection to others. A need to protect, to survive. Droids would do and will do whatever they are asked, even at great personal risk. They excel at self-sacrifice, obviously, but we aren’t always looking for that. Even when pairing droids in triads, they were unable to learn to work together. They lacked the essential element of combat. They were bullets, nothing more. We knew, then, that we needed humanoids. And that’s when we began our recruitments._

Sehun blinks, stares up at the ceiling, and realizes that he will probably be reading well into the night.  
  


♄

  
  
He finds Junmyeon the following morning before First. Sehun checks his bracer, taps on Junmyeon’s number, and watches his pin stay in the same spot, unmoving. Immediately, Sehun recognizes the coords. 

Junmyeon is in the empty training room, staff in hand. He’s got a screwdriver in one hand, the body of the staff in the other, driving in… something. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

Junmyeon’s head shoots up, and he looks genuinely pleased to see Sehun. “Some minor alterations.” He shrugs. “What’s going on with you?” 

“I finished the reader last night,” Sehun says. 

“Ooh, quick study, I remember,” Junmyeon says. “All those speed reading classes must have paid off.” 

“I didn’t take a class, I’m just naturally gifted in that area,” Sehun says very carefully, folding his arms over his chest. It’s not like he’s trying to brag. It’s just the truth. 

“So what did you think?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Think of what?” 

“ _Of what_? Of the reader, dork. What did you think?” 

“I didn’t quite know what to think, to be honest.” 

“It sounds good, doesn’t it?” Junmyeon asks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“The whole, _oh, we had every intention of using a robot army_ schtick,” Junmyeon says. “It sounds good, doesn’t it?” 

“I guess?” Sehun says. “I mean… I don’t know, I guess.” 

“Doesn’t it sound a little too perfect?” Junmyeon asks. “Like something you’d make up if you wanted to start getting together an army?” 

“W-What are you talking about? I thought we left this stuff behind.” 

“You can’t _leave this stuff behind_ ,” Junmyeon assures him. “This is the whole game. The whole fuckin’ shebang.” 

“You think everything is a conspiracy,” Sehun says. “You think everyone’s out to get you.” 

“Not everyone.” And he gestures to the walls, like that’s some information that Sehun can process. “Them.” 

“Them,” Sehun scoffs. 

“You are reading propaganda,” Junmyeon says. “You are force-fed it! And you don’t even realize!” 

Sehun cannot swallow the thoughts any longer, especially given what he knows. Adding everything up. The staff. The voice. The way Junmyeon just _knows_ things. He’s not stupid, and this is a classic case of _The simplest answer is most often correct._

“I probably would have been dead without the Agency,” Sehun says, and a strange brand of defensiveness leaps into his throat. “Do you get that? I have… I have a place to stay. I get three meals a day. I’m clean. I have a purpose. I have friends, and I’m—I’m happy.” 

Junmyeon laughs sharply. “You’re happy.” 

“Y-Yeah, I’m happy.” 

“You’re a soldier,” Junmyeon says. “You’re a _prisoner_.” 

“We each signed a contract. We knew the consequences. We gave consent.” 

“You can’t give consent that way,” Junmyeon whispers, getting too close for comfort. “If the options are say yes or die, that’s not a real yes.” He tilts his head to the side, studying Sehun’s face. “Don’t you get that?” 

It’s the first time Sehun’s thought about it in that way in all his years on Nirth. Did he have other options? Was his recruitment as predatory as Junmyeon says? Are all recruitments that way? 

Junmyeon steps back, hands at the back of his head. He rakes his hands through his hair in frustration, and Sehun feels the need to apologize, but he doesn’t. 

“Do you remember the way I was recruited?” Junmyeon asks. 

“H—Of course, I remember,” Sehun says. “Of course I do.” 

“The carnage on my home planet was overwhelming. They told me I couldn’t return whence I came. I became a ward of the Agency,” Junmyeon says. “And do you know what percentage of wards become agents when they become age-eligible?” 

“N-No.” 

“One hundred percent,” Junmyeon says, and his smile is sad. “One hundred percent. Does that seem right? Does that seem noble?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Sehun says. “I don’t know.” 

“You do know,” Junmyeon says. “You’re just too scared to say.” He pokes a finger into Sehun’s chest, right above his heart. “But one day, you won’t be so scared anymore. One day, you’ll understand, and everything will become crystal clear.” He smiles, steps back, finger dragging down Sehun’s suit. “I just hope it won’t be too late.” 

Sehun watches Junmyeon leave, watches the doors slip shut behind his retreating figure, and he wonders when, not if, that day will come.


	6. Chapter 6

They sit in the reading room, busy in their own little worlds. He hasn’t spoken to Junmyeon in three days. It feels too awkward to say that he hasn’t stopped thinking about what Junmyeon said. He hates admitting when he’s wrong, and he still doesn’t _think_ he’s wrong, but there’s something undeniably adhesive about Junmyeon’s line of thought. 

Kyungsoo sends him glances as they study their readers, and Sehun dutifully ignores them. He doesn’t know what to think anymore. He knows he should talk to someone, but all of his life, he’s been trained to swallow things like this. Deal with it on his own. 

“Ever thought about the possibility that this is all just a dream?” Junmyeon says. And he looks between the two of them, raising his brows. “Or maybe a simulation?” 

Kyungsoo sighs, gets up. “I’m gonna go to the library for a while, I think.” 

“Tough crowd,” Junmyeon mutters. 

Sehun doesn’t find it funny, but then again, he doesn’t find many things funny these days. 

They watch Kyungsoo retreat from the room, hesitating at the door before pressing his thumb against the reader, letting it whish open. 

Sehun goes back to his reader, content to manufacture some quiet on his own, but that, he realizes belatedly, was a dream within a dream. He registers when Junmyeon stands up from his seat, and he tries to stay focused on his reader as Junmyeon walks over him, lurches over him. 

Unfortunately, Sehun is only human. He has to look up at Junmyeon, cock an eyebrow at him like _What?_

“Things are weird,” Junmyeon says. “Why’s that?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. 

“Don’t lie. You’re not good at it.” 

“I’m not lying.” 

“And I’m dancing naked in the outersphere,” Junmyeon comments. “Tell me what’s going on.” He tilts his head to the side. “Haven’t you realized that things get better the sooner you talk to me?” He smiles, and Sehun hates the way his stomach twists, the way he automatically drifts a little closer to him. “Hasn’t that sunk in yet?” 

Sehun looks back down at his reader. “No, not yet.” 

Junmyeon throws his head back with a groan. He walks back over to his seat, and when Sehun looks at him, he is still staring at Sehun. He smiles, handsome and sweet, and Sehun looks back down at his screen, the words suddenly excruciatingly hard to read.  
  


♄

  
  
He starts eating in his cabin. He can’t take the strained tension between the three of them, so he gets into his meals early, grabs whatever can be transported easily, and heads back. 

Kyungsoo appears on the second evening, pinging the door. 

Sehun brushes the crumbs off of his jumpsuit and onto the floor before padding over to the door, making it part. 

“Hi,” Kyungsoo says. “What’s up?” 

“Nothing,” Sehun says. 

“Why aren’t you at meals?” 

“Just not that hungry,” Sehun says. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re bad at lying?” 

“Recently, I’ve heard that a lot, interestingly enough.” 

Kyungsoo smiles. “Maybe that means you should stop lying, then.” He gestures inside the cabin. “Can I come in?” 

Sehun steps aside, and he lets Kyungsoo walk into his room. They are quiet for a while, and Kyungsoo takes a seat on Sehun’s bed, sees the wrappers from rolls, a carton of templar milk. 

“Not hungry,” Kyungsoo says with a smile. 

“Only a little,” Sehun shrugs. “Not enough to hang around.” 

Kyungsoo nods, aiming his smile to the ground as it fades. Sehun doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know why things are so uncomfortable between them now. Is it all because of him? Because of what he feels towards Junmyeon, those impossible, complicated feelings of love and fear? 

“Have you been checking your vitals?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“Every day,” Sehun says. 

“Good.” 

“Y-You?” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says. “Every day. I think… I think I’m good.” 

“That’s good,” Sehun says quietly. “Really good.” 

More silence. Sehun holds his hands in front of his body, twists them uncomfortably. Kyungsoo looks over at him, and Sehun moves his hands behind his back, holds himself at rest. 

“When did this… when did we become like this?” Kyungsoo asks. “When did we start lying to each other?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Kyungsoo says. “I just don’t understand.” 

“I… I don’t either.” 

Kyungsoo nods. “Okay.” He pats his legs before he stands up. “I get it. I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone, if that’s really what you want.” 

“No,” Sehun says. “No, I just—”

Kyungsoo turns, looks at Sehun with too much love. “I don’t want things with Junmyeon to break _us_ apart. You mean too much to me.” He moves his hand like he’s about to grab Sehun, but it seems he thinks better of it, lets it swing back towards his own body. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone now.” 

_I don’t want that_ , he wants to say. _I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be without you._

He watches Kyungsoo leave, and though he should go after him, say the words that float aimlessly in his head, he doesn’t. He goes to bed, thinks of what he ought to do about Junmyeon.  
  


♄

  
  
The back and forth cannot last, and much as Sehun feels pulled in two different directions, he feels he owes it to the Agency to meet the confrontation head-on. Feels the need to defend what needs defending. Protect and serve. 

He doesn’t have a plan, lets it leap out of him the next afternoon. He’s tired of letting things happen to him. He wants to take control every now and again. 

In the training room, they are about to go through another normal, run of the mill simulation when Kyungsoo makes a noise of surprise, distress. 

“What?” 

“I have a meeting,” Kyungsoo says. “I forgot.” 

“A meeting?” Junmyeon asks. “Meeting with who?” 

“Directors,” Kyungsoo says, and he starts to hurriedly gather his things. “I can’t believe I almost forgot.” 

“What’s the meeting about?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Potential clues. Information we might find useful to us,” Kyungsoo says. “That kind of thing.” Junmyeon goes quiet, and Sehun stares at him, watching the gears in his head turning. “Sorry to cut practice short.” 

“It’s fine,” Sehun says. “Just let us know when you wanna meet back up.”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says. “Probably later today. After Third? I can brief you.” 

“Sounds good,” Sehun says. 

Kyungsoo leaves, and Sehun begins to gather his things before he realizes that Junmyeon isn’t moving, just standing there, staring at him. 

“What the fuck, Sehun.” 

“What?” 

“Can we stop, like, beating around the h-gram?” Junmyeon says. “Just come out and say whatever you need to say.” 

It’s impulsive. Sehun knows that. He can’t stop himself, though. Won’t stop himself. 

“The voice,” Sehun says. “Sounds an awful lot like you.” 

“The… the vocoder?” Junmyeon says. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, give me a fucking break,” Junmyeon says. “You can’t honestly believe that’s me.” 

Sehun shrugs. “I have seen little evidence to the contrary.” 

“They can make anything seem like anything,” Junmyeon says. “The level of technology is fucking terrifying, and you think—” 

“I don’t know what I think yet,” Sehun says. 

“Is he leading you to this?” Junymeon asks. 

“Who?” 

“Kyungsoo,” Junmyeon says. “Is he putting these ideas in your head?” 

“What? No. Why would you even—” 

“Look, I’m just saying I don’t know if _he’s_ trustworthy,” Junmyeon says, and he taps his nose. “Keep your eyes and ears open.” 

Sehun narrows his eyes, mouth open in confusion. “I… I tell you I think you’re conspiring against us, and your response is to point the finger at someone else.” 

“With good reason,” Junmyeon says. 

“Like what?” 

“Gut instinct,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun rolls his eyes. 

“You should spend more time thinking about ways to prove that you’re not working against us than thinking about ways to save your own ass,” Sehun advises. 

“What, you gonna report me?” Junmyeon asks. 

“R-Report you?” 

“Get me tossed into deep space?” Junmyeon asks. “Just like, ask yourself that question. I’m serious. If you really believe that I’m behind all this, then fucking… what are you _waiting for_?” 

Sehun has no idea, has no idea what to say. He sputters as he struggles for something, anything to say, but Junmyeon turns his back on him, leaves him in the training room alone with his thoughts, the worst thing of all.  
  


♄

  
  
Kyungsoo messages them both the time, and Sehun meets him outside the room. Junmyeon messages them both that he’s running late, so the two of them enter room 33 together, the lights shuddering on late once Sehun enters behind Kyungsoo. 

“How was it?” Kyungsoo asks, and he looks back over his shoulder. “After I left, I mean.” 

“Fine.” Sehun avoids Kyungsoo’s eyes. 

“Fine?” 

“Yeah, fine.” 

“You didn’t do anything stupid, did you?” Kyungsoo asks. 

He’s barely been grilled, and yet he can’t hold back. Kyungsoo deserves to know, and he doesn’t want to lie to him anymore. That’s not what he’s about. 

“I told him about the vocoder,” Sehun says. 

“You _told_ him?” Kyungsoo asks. “What are you fucking thinking?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. “I was just… hoping to get some clarity on the matter.” 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, and he grabs Sehun by the sleeve like he’s dragging a child away from a dangerous situation. Sehun lets himself be led out of the reading room, and soon, they are tucked away in an alcove, the dying light of day streaking through. Every once in a while, an agent or two will walk by, but Kyungsoo lowers his voice, speaks in a bare whisper. 

“Sehun, you need to start thinking before you _do_ things,” he warns. “Keep me in the _loop_ here. I feel like we’re not understanding each other anymore.” 

Guilt rises in Sehun’s throat. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t—”

“I know you don’t mean anything by it,” Kyungsoo says. “And I know you’re confused, but he could be _dangerous_. And if he is, I mean, do you want him knowing exactly what we know about him?” 

“No,” Sehun says. “No, you’re right.” 

Kyungsoo sighs, looks out the window, and Sehun looks with him. There are still agents in the quad, walking, talking, laughing. Not a care in the world, it seems. Sehun yearns for those days. Simple deployments. Get in, handle a small case, get out. Get back in time for some quiet individual study. 

“I didn’t want to tell you this,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Tell me what?” 

“You got me curious,” Kyungsoo says. “You got me thinking and… remember the DNA strand we pulled?” 

“Y-Yeah?”

“Well, that’s what I’ve been working on the past couple weeks. It was interfered with, so I was decoding the interference, putting the puzzle back together again. I finally finished.” 

“What did… who does it belong to?” 

“Who do you think it belongs to?” 

At first, Sehun assumes Kyungsoo is joking, but with every passing second, it becomes more and more obvious that it isn’t a joke, that none of this is funny.

“What are you saying?” Sehun says. 

“What do you fucking think I’m saying?” Kyungsoo says, and he gets so close to Sehun that he can almost taste his breath. “We are walking on very unsteady ground here. And I think you were right… _are_ right.” 

“About him—” 

“About it _being him_ ,” Kyungsoo says. “And… and it would make sense, wouldn’t it? Just like you said. He’s always one step ahead. He always knows what’s gonna happen before it does. He always has this—” 

“Gut instinct,” Sehun says blankly. 

“Yes. Instinct,” Kyungsoo says, and he holds Sehun by the arm, looks at him like he’s begging Sehun to believe him when once before, these roles were reversed. _What have I started?_ “I’m telling you, I get this bad feeling when I look at him. When he speaks. No one’s instinct is right that often. No one happens upon the answers with that much luck.” 

“I just don’t understand why he would… leave such obvious hints,” Sehun says. “If it’s him, if it’s all him, then why—” 

“He’s not as smart as he _thinks_ he is,” Kyungsoo says. “And you’ve known that from the very beginning.” 

It is a particularly ungenerous way of thinking about Junmyeon, one that Sehun doesn’t give more than a few seconds of thought. When they first met, sure, he found him blustery and overconfident, but now… now that’s become part of Junmyeon’s charm. Now, Sehun is certain that there is something beautiful inside him, a dreamer that emerges when the time is right. 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. 

“You sounded so sure before,” Kyungsoo says, and he furrows his brow meanly. “I’ve given you _more_ evidence, and you’re somehow less confident in your initial assessment.” Kyungsoo looks away with a scoff. “This is him. This is what he does to people.” 

“What do you mean?” Sehun asks, and he takes a small step back, folds his arms across his middle. 

“He’s got you thinking with your emotions rather than with your head.” He smiles sadly. “I don’t know, Sehun. Think about it, I guess.” 

Without another word, Kyungsoo makes to walk off. 

“I-Is that it?” Sehun asks, surprised. 

“Well, there’s not much I can do on my own,” Kyungsoo says. “Not without you. I’ll give you time to think. A-And if you think we should do something about it, I don’t know, just come to me, okay? Before it’s too late.” 

Sehun watches him go, feels his heartbeat hammering in his neck. When will it be too late, he wonders. When he’s wrapped in Junmyeon’s arms? When his heart is sitting in Junmyeon’s hand? 

They walk back to the reader room, and Junmyeon is there, feet kicked up onto a desk. “You guys boning?” 

Sehun rolls his eyes. 

“It’s time to understand what we’re about to face,” Kyungsoo says. “We’re nearing the end of this great trial, so it will only get more serious from here on out.” He looks at Junmyeon. “The Directors wanted to stress the importance of this.” 

Junmyeon looks at Sehun. “You understand?” 

“Do _you_?” Sehun asks. 

“Please, how many times are we gonna rehash this argument?” Junmyeon says, throwing his head back before rocketing back up again. “I understand the gravitas of the situation. I’m not gonna make any more jokes, jests, goofs, or japes. Is everyone happy? Have we sufficiently oxygenated all the fun and joy out of things?” 

“I think so,” Kyungsoo says. “Great.” 

“How did the meeting go?” Sehun asks. “What else…. I mean, what did they say?” 

“Our next target has been moving from planet to planet in the Iota Chandra system,” Kyungsoo says, and he turns to the board, taps around in files before he pulls up a map. Overhead, the beautiful blue h-gram swirls, stars shining brightly above them. “Does anyone need a refresher on the Pale Death?” 

“Diseasara,” Sehun says. “White smoke.” 

“Good,” Kyungsoo says, and a thrill sits in Sehun’s stomach because of the praise as Kyungsoo navigates through the system, tapping on planet after planet. As he taps, squares of surveillance footage pop up. “Iota Chandra is a quaternary diamond dust galaxy. Variable brightness. Eighteen planets, and so far, nine have been struck.” Sehun’s eyes dart from footage to footage, the white smoke creeping over each planet's floor, devouring and acidizing everything in its path. 

“D-Do we know how it affects humanoids?” Sehun asks. “Creatures?” 

“We do,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s, uh… it’s not pretty.” 

“Do we want to see it?” Junmyeon asks. 

“We don’t,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Well, all right, then,” Junmyeon says, and he slaps his legs. “At least we know what we’re up against. Man-eating smoke monster.” 

“We’ll need to make use of the bubbles again,” Kyungsoo says. “And ideally, we’ll be able to ma—”

“Manifest shieldstyle, I was going to suggest the same thing,” Junmyeon says, nodding sagely. Sehun rolls his eyes. 

“The one thing we do know,” Kyungsoo says, “which gives us a distinct advantage…,” and he navigates to one particular piece of footage, highlights it and throws it to its largest form, the scene playing out above them. It seems like a forested area, beautiful and wholesome. “The smoke is highly, and I mean _highly_ flammable.” Then, suddenly, Sehun sees something familiar. Something incredibly familiar. 

A little gas leech. The white smoke approaches, but before it can eat the gas leech alive, the thing ignites, and suddenly, there is a burst of bright yellow light. The footage goes dead, and Sehun bites his lip. 

“Well, that makes things easy then,” Junmyeon says. “Locate where the Pale Death originates, and we blow that bitch to kingdom come.” 

“It’s complicated,” Kyungsoo says. “Something about the molecular makeup makes it so that the smoke is like… limbs.” 

“Limbs,” Junmyeon says, unimpressed. “What, like it can bud?” 

“That’s the reproduction after devouring, we assume. Confronted with danger, the Pale Death is able to—” 

“Self-sever to protect the host,” Junmyeon says, rolling his eyes. “Great.” 

“Also,” Kyungsoo says, “we should all be aware that, unfortunately—”

Junmyeon sits up in his seat. “Unfortunately?” 

“Unfortunately,” Kyungsoo says, and he swipes out of the footage and over to a life scan. There is a hyper-concentration of life in the center of the screen, so red it looks like it’s blinking, and then, on the outskirts of the image, a scattering of red dots, moving and shaking, “there are hostages on the planet. We’ll have to work carefully in order to extract them.” 

“Oh, absolutely wonderful,” Junmyeon says. 

“Don’t be tactless,” Sehun says. “They’re in danger. They need our help.” 

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but things don’t often go _according to plan_ when we show up,” Junmyeon says. “Like, we’re about as likely to accidentally kill them ourselves as we are to actually rescue them.” Sehun looks down at his hands. He’s the worst among them, and most of the destruction ends up tracing back to him. _His_ fault. Junmyeon makes a noise, and it makes Sehun look up. “Oh, stop, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Whatever the case may be,” Kyungsoo interrupts, “we’ll just have to be more… conscious of our surroundings. We need to preserve the planet long enough to get them out of there.” 

“Makes sense,” Junmyeon nods. 

Kyungsoo looks to Sehun, and Sehun nods too. 

“Okay, that’s it for the night,” Kyungsoo says. “We should get working on our plan tomorrow when we’ve had time to process this information.” 

“Sounds good,” Junmyeon says with a great stretch. 

After they are all back in their rooms, Kyungsoo sends him the restructured DNA strand like Sehun needed the proof that he wasn’t lying. He lies in bed, the twisting double helix barbed and sharp like it was shattered apart and glued back together. He spins it with his finger, watches the blue dance in front of him like wavelengths, and he lets his eyes go fuzzy as he thinks about Junmyeon. 

It’s unlike him. It doesn’t fit. Junmyeon is too good. He’s complicated, but he is lovely. 

Sehun sends the h-gram back to his bracer and turns over in bed, the covers pulled tightly around his body. 

_Maybe it’s already too late_ , Sehun thinks. _Maybe it’s been too late for a while._  
  


♄

  
  
If Junmyeon can read the tension between them and him, he keeps quiet about it. They meet as planned, and he reacts as he always does. Chipper. Eager to get started. Eager to win. 

They meet in the reading room, and he still has a little spit of jam on his lip, leftover from First. There’s no way, Sehun becomes convinced. _Look at him_ , he thinks. _Look how hapless he is. How pure._

“You’ve got something,” Sehun says, and Junmyeon looks over, the jam looking especially goofy on him, “on your—” 

He gestures with his thumb, and Junmyeon’s brow furrows, but he reaches up anyway, brushing the jam away. 

“Thanks,” Junmyeon smiles, and Sehun hates the way that makes him feel, like he is helpless. Like he has no choice but to fall deeper in love with him. 

Sehun looks away, grabs his tablet and keeps it in his lap as Kyungsoo moves around, prepares the screen for their day. 

“Are we ready?” Kyungsoo asks, the hub overhead changing colors as the system starts up. 

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Junmyeon smiles. 

Kyungsoo turns to the screen, tapping and dragging as the detailed map reveals itself, the hills and valleys of the territory stroked with the h-grams lines. The footage of the area seems live, reacting in real time, and Sehun watches the little red dots move around each other as the ocean of red grows and grows. 

“I think it makes most sense to keep our strongest defense,” Kyungsoo says, pointing to Junmyeon, “back with the hostages.”

Junmyeon makes a noise, and Sehun rolls his eyes. 

“What? I don’t wanna do that,” Junmyeon whines. “I wanna be front line! I hate bubbling.” 

“But you’re best at it,” Kyungsoo says. “And we need to protect them. Not only is it an honor, but it is your duty.” 

Junmyeon frowns. “I hate duty and honor.” 

“We know,” Sehun says, and he refocuses his attention on Kyungsoo. “What do we think our game plan should be?” 

“As long as the hostages are protected,” Kyungsoo says, giving Junmyeon a significant glance over his shoulder, “then we should be able to execute a plan as follows.” He traces lines over the branching waves of the red fog. “I’ll come from the north, you’ll come from the south, and we’ll begin severing.” 

“But if the death can self-sever, then—” 

“Then we’ll lure it into thinking that we’re targeting the arms, and it will begin a cataclysm,” Kyungsoo says, and he crosses off the rest of the swirling arms of the smoke. “If we survive it, then we’ll be able to target the cluster…,” and he furiously circles the center of the red beacon, “head-on.” 

“Ignition or…?” 

“Well, that’s up for debate,” Kyungsoo says. “We have some option, but we won’t know the best course of action until we know—” 

“Until we know…?” Junmyeon says. 

“Know what the Pale Death is surviving on,” Kyungsoo says. 

“What are you talking about?” Sehun asks. “I mean, doesn’t it just kill, ingest, and bud?” 

“For limbs, yes,” Kyungsoo says, and he turns back to the board, pointing to the center. “But the host… the host is something or someone kept alive for the purposes of—” 

“So it’s a parasite,” Junmyeon says. “An all-consuming parasite.” 

“Essentially,” Kyungsoo says. “We’ll want to see… well, see if there’s anything left of the host before we move in.” 

“Right,” Junmyeon says. “And you guys… ugh, I hate thinking about not being present for this.” 

“You’ll be present,” Kyungsoo assures him, “and you’ll have the most important job.” 

“I’m not a kid, you don’t have to console me,” Junmyeon says, pouting and folding his arms like he absolutely needs to be consoled. 

“Of course not,” Kyungsoo says, hand on his back, smiling at Sehun. 

They talk about plans, about methods for sterilization and protection against airborne attacks, and the afternoon passes quickly that way. They work all the way up to the bracer alarm for Third, and Junmyeon pitter-patters his hands on his lap happily as Kyungsoo cleans up, shuts off the board for the day. Junmyeon chats aimlessly as he’s wont to do, and Kyungsoo wanders over as Sehun is stretching his legs, throwing his bag over his shoulder. 

“I’m really looking forward to working with you,” Kyungsoo says quietly. 

“We always work together,” Sehun frowns. 

“You know what I mean.” Kyungsoo looks back over his shoulder, and together, they watch Junmyeon fixing readers into his bag. “It works out because it’s a good plan, but… we never really get the chance to fight the way we used to. Back to back.” 

Sehun’s heart tumbles in his chest, and he looks over at Junmyeon, angles himself so Junmyeon can’t see his face. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “I’m looking forward to… training exercises. Simulations and stuff.” 

Kyungsoo smiles, nods a little. “Me too.” 

They walk to Third together, and Sehun can’t quiet the silly feeling in his stomach, the feeling that surges up inside his body and grips his heart. He can never make up his mind. He’s always gonna be caught between the two of them, split absolutely in half as he tries to salvage what’s left of the triad.  
  


♄

  
  
After First the next day, Kyungsoo says he’s got to take a run down to the staff room for a tune-up. 

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo says, and he buffs the staff’s body with the wrist of his jumpsuit, all balled up in his palm. “It’s sort of… malfunctioning, I guess that’s the right word.” He looks up at Sehun, a tiny smile on his face. “I figured I’d get it fixed before we began. Wouldn’t wanna start off training the wrong way.” 

“No,” Sehun agrees. “We’ll wait.” 

Kyungsoo goes to the lifter, disappears inside of it, and Sehun puts his thumb against the scanner until the doors to the training room split open. 

“Awfully suspicious, isn’t it?” Junmyeon says. 

“What is?” 

“He’s splitting us up again,” Junmyeon says. 

Sehun stares at him blankly before he realizes that Junmyeon isn’t joking. He’s serious. 

“Are you insane?” Sehun asks. 

“No, are _you_?” He tilts his head to the side angrily. “I can’t believe you can’t see what he’s doing.” 

“Are you seriously this upset about being put on defense? Is it really so fucking terrible?” 

“This isn’t _about_ that. Are you stupid?” Junmyeon says, and Sehun can see that he is speaking past his own jealousy, anger, frustration. “Open your fucking eyes.” 

“I’m not stupid.” 

“No, you’re not,” Junmyeon says. “So stop acting like you are, and stop trusting every little thing he says.” 

“And I should trust _you_ instead?” Sehun asks. “Are _you_ the only person I can trust?” 

“It’s starting to seem that way, isn’t it?” Junmyeon smiles. 

Sehun rolls his eyes, turns away in order to start tinkering with the simulations. “Just get used to the idea. You’ll come around to it in a couple of days.” He looks back at Junmyeon, points a finger at him. “Don’t make this weird. Don’t make it difficult.” 

“I won’t, I won’t. But if something goes down,” Junmyeon says, and he taps the side of his perfect nose again, “you’ll know it was because of him.” 

“What are you fucking talking about?” Sehun blusters. “Something goes down _every_ time. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re fighting for the fate of the universe. Things are bound to get messy.” 

“We’ll see,” Junmyeon shrugs. “We’ll see just how messy it gets.” 

“I guess we will.” 

“I guess we will,” Junmyeon smiles sweetly.  
  


♄

  
  
Their simulations do not go well, and Sehun feels like a fucking idiot when he can’t execute Kyungsoo’s plan to the letter. They try different attacks, different offensive strategies, but each and every one, Sehun feels like they just… can’t connect. Kyungsoo frowns, dark brow sitting heavier than normal as he looks Sehun over. Their failure only adds fuel to the wildfire. 

“I’m just saying,” Junmyeon says, and he kicks Sehun under the table before gesturing at Sehun with angry chopsticks. “This is not really the time for experimentation and wishful thinking.” 

“It’s not wishful thinking,” Sehun says. “Do you really want to put the lives of so many innocents at risk?” 

“First, you are so fucking insecure about your own ability,” Junmyeon says. “Being looked over by you, or even Kyungsoo, is putting them _at risk_? Second, what the fuck, it’s not gonna _matter_ if they’re at risk if we, and by we, I mean _you two chuckleheads_ end up blowing it. You realize that, right?” 

“T-That’s a good point,” Sehun says. 

“All I make are good points,” Junmyeon says. “I am the only one with a functioning frontal lobe around this joint.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, but Junmyeon kicks him again, this time more playfully. It makes Sehun smile as they eat, Kyungsoo nowhere to be found.  
  


♄

  
  
He finds Kyungsoo in the library, and he hikes his bag over his shoulder uncomfortably as he approaches. The room is dead quiet, and there are only a few other agents in the room, spread out over the interior. Kyungsoo is sitting in his chair swiping through a reader, and Sehun thinks momentarily about leaving, turning around and going back to his room. He could access an ent-option. He could generate some peaceful scenery. Hell, he could go for a swim. He could do anything but this. He _should_ do anything but this. 

Instead of listening to his better judgement, Sehun steps forward until he is standing above Kyungsoo, Sehun’s shadow enough to make Kyungsoo set his reader down on the table. 

“Could we talk?” Sehun asks quietly, and he looks around as if to wordlessly suggest that it is too crowded. 

Kyungsoo looks around. “We can’t talk here?” Sehun frowns, and Kyungsoo sighs. He packs his stuff into his bag, slings it over his shoulder carelessly. “Lead the way.” 

Sehun turns, furrowing his brow as he thinks of where to go. The quad seems like an equally poor choice, given the time of day. He could find a hallway, a forgotten reader room to sign out, but in the end, he walks back to his room and Kyungsoo follows him dutifully. 

Kyungsoo takes a seat on Sehun’s bed once it’s offered to him, and he stares at Sehun. “What did you wanna talk about?” 

“The, uh, what’s been going on, I guess,” Sehun says, twisting his hands in front of him. “The game plan.” 

Kyungsoo’s face is carefully blank. “What about it?” 

“Maybe this isn’t the best… the best way to go about it,” Sehun says. “Maybe he’s right.” 

“You don’t trust me?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“N-No, of course I do, I just—” 

“You just want to follow his lead,” Kyungsoo fills in. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Sehun says. 

“What did you mean, then? Did you mean that you let him convince you that I’m trying to fuck us over?” 

“H—What are you talking about?” 

“He’s not subtle, and neither are you,” Kyungsoo says. “I can tell what’s going on behind my back.” 

A knife of brutal guilt stabs into the pit of Sehun’s stomach, and he hurriedly tries to pull it out, only to find that it begins a bleed out, a terrible puddle growing at his feet. 

“T-That’s not… Kyungsoo, it’s not like that,” Sehun says. “I swear, it’s not. It’s _not_.” 

“You keep saying that,” Kyungsoo says. “Fine, it’s not. Then, how is it?” 

“I-I just think we should explore every option available to us,” Sehun says, and he keeps his eyes low so that he doesn’t have to look into Kyungsoo’s eyes, full of judgement and scorn. 

“You only want to explore his options,” Kyungsoo says. “You don’t trust me the way you used to.” 

“Stop.” 

“No, I’m serious,” Kyungsoo says, and he turns his back to Sehun. “You like him more than me, so you’re gonna start listening to him. I get it.” 

It feels strangely cruel, all wrong. Sehun blinks wetly, and he tries to clear his throat, clear away the tightness. It doesn’t go anywhere, of course. There’s nowhere to go. 

“That’s not true,” Sehun says, and it comes out like a plea. _You were always better than me. You never let your emotions take control of you. Be better now. Help me through this._ “It’s not.” 

Kyungsoo turns back to face him, and his eyes are watering as he looks at Sehun. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure,” Sehun says. “I’m sure, I swear.” 

Kyungsoo breathes out unsteadily, shuts his eyes. A tear falls down his face, and it is hauntingly sad. 

“What happened to us?” Kyungsoo asks, and Sehun doesn’t know if he wants an answer, doesn’t know if there _is_ an answer. “Is this why our compatibility score was so low? Because they knew something like this would happen?”

“No,” Sehun says. “Stop, we’re… it’s just all happening all at once. We’re just… it’s stressful. This is because of stress.”

Kyungsoo nods, nods like he wants to trust Sehun. It makes Sehun want to trust him back. Give himself to Kyungsoo completely. Let the cards fall where they may. 

“You’re right,” Kyungsoo says, and he breathes in sharply, lets it out quickly like it’s hurting him. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I… I don’t know what I was saying.” He looks up into Sehun’s eyes as he brushes the tear track away from his face. “I’m sorry.” 

“Y-You don’t have to apologize,” Sehun says. “I should say sorry to you.” 

Kyungsoo laughs. “You don’t have to say sorry. I understand your concern. I get it. I do.” He huffs out another breath, and he steps forward, pulls Sehun into an embrace, warm and comforting. “I understand. I do.” 

Sehun closes his eyes as he rests his cheek against Kyungsoo’s hair, letting himself indulge in this. What is he doing? What are any of them doing? Maybe that’s the secret, the grand secret that everyone knows, but no one tells each other. Nobody knows. Everyone is just guessing all the time until they don’t have to guess anymore, until the guessing is done. 

“If you really think we ought to,” Kyungsoo says, “we can try something else.” 

“No,” Sehun says. “Y-You’re right. And I trust you. I trust you to lead us.” He tightens his arms around Kyungsoo’s body, a little pulse before the embrace comes to its natural conclusion. “I trust you.”  
  


♄

  
  
Junmyeon watches, vaguely amused as Kyungsoo and Sehun run through their fourteenth simulation of the morning, a bright black bubble shiny with purple and blue around him, thick and strong. Sehun is having trouble focusing, feels like there’s something sitting on his shoulder that he can’t quite brush away. 

“Stop paying attention to me, and pay attention to what you’re supposed to be doing,” Junmyeon says. 

“It’d be easier for him if you stopped constantly giving your advice,” Kyungsoo says. “You won’t shut up.” 

“Well, to defend myself, it’s really boring,” Junmyeon smiles. “I have nothing to do besides sit here and practice things I’ve had mastered for the past ten years.” 

“You’re a really good team player,” Kyungsoo sneers. “Anyone ever told you that?” 

“Hey, look, I’m just trying to help get us all out alive,” Junmyeon says, and he holds his hands back, letting the bubble drop. “You don’t want my help? Fine. It’s your ascension to the astral plane, not mine.” 

“If you had any advice,” Sehun says, and he feels Kyungsoo’s eyes on him, “we’re willing to hear it.” 

“You two have so many issues working together,” Junmyeon says. “You need to start feeling each other spiritually. You need to figure out what spells you both know best.” 

“Kyungsoo’s good with the elementals,” Sehun says. 

“Stick to that, then,” Junmyeon says, tilting his head to the side. “You’re not bad at it either.” 

Sehun feels a little surge of pride hearing Junmyeon’s words, and he turns back to face the simulation. “We should run it again. Try taking out the legs with elemental spells only, one right after another.” 

Kyungsoo breathes in, breathes out. “Okay. Fine.” 

“That should trigger the cataclysm,” Sehun says. “Right?” 

“Right.” 

“Then, let’s do it,” Sehun says. “Three. Two. One.”  
  


♄

  
  
There is a shadow creeping along Kyungsoo’s shoulder, and Sehun studies it as it drapes cloth-like along him. They share in the silence, each pushing in their half, and it is a tenuous, terrible silence. Sehun wants to break it, but he can’t think of anything to say. Can’t think of how to explain himself. _I still love you more than him_ , he wants to say. _I still want you with all my heart._

But he can’t form the words. He can’t make them come out. 

Kyungsoo stares out the window. Sehun stands there. Waits for the glass of quiet to fall to the floor. 

“D-Do you…” 

Kyungsoo turns, looks over his shoulder. “Do I what?” 

“Are you mad at me?” Sehun asks. 

He looks back to the window, body collapsing with a sigh. He faces Sehun, brow laced with worry. 

“I’m not mad at you. I’m nervous.”

“Why?” 

He looks Sehun up and down, and once, it would have sent Sehun’s stomach twisting with desire. But not now. Not now. 

“He’s changed you,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun’s body immediately rejects the words. “Really, he has.”

“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing.” 

“I think it is,” Kyungsoo says. “That’s what makes me so… so concerned.” 

“You don’t have to be concerned. He’s… he’s not dangerous.” 

“Do you think that? Really?” 

_No. I don't. Maybe I do. I’m not sure. I don’t know what I think anymore._

“Yes,” he says. “I think we need him.” 

“Whether we need him or not,” Kyungsoo says, shaking his head, “it doesn’t matter. We— _you_ matter more to me than whether or not we win this thing.” 

“I’m okay,” Sehun says. “I’ll be fine.” 

“You don’t know that. You’re just assuming the best from someone who we’ve learned _can’t_ be trusted. Why?” 

“We’re a triad,” Sehun says, and he can feel himself going more and more frantic as Kyungsoo picks him apart. “We’re a team. We can’t start turning on each other now.” 

“Sehun, w-who are you anymore?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“I’m still me.” 

“Are you sure? Because with every day that passes, you sound more like him.” 

“Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing,” Sehun repeats. 

“It is,” Kyungsoo says. “I know… listen, I know you don’t want to hear this but I know it’s true. He’s a sickness, a-and he’s infected you.” 

“Don’t be like this.” 

“I’m just being who I am,” Kyungsoo answers. “I’m being the person I always was. Can you say the same?” He narrows his gaze on Sehun, stares right into his fucking soul. _No_ , Sehun thinks. _Don’t cut me down so low._ “No, I didn’t think so.” 

He brushes past Sehun easily, their shoulders colliding, and Sehun feels his foundations crumbling, feels everything collapsing around them. 

“Don’t go,” Sehun says. “Please, I don’t wan—” 

Kyungsoo turns back sharply, and he looks scary, looks like the first day Sehun met him. Intimidating and cruel. _What kind of life is this?_ , Sehun wonders. _I don’t want to go back to that place and time. I know your softness now. I don’t want to be strangers._

“You don’t know what you want anymore,” Kyungsoo accuses. “But it’s time for you to start figuring it out.” He turns, faces the door once more, and Sehun lets his eyes glide along the broad of Kyungsoo’s back. “I… I don’t want this to tear us apart.” 

“Is it going to?” Sehun asks. 

“If you let it.” 

He walks through the sliding doors as soon as they’ll allow him, and he leaves Sehun in his wake, the storm still clouding over him, still hanging in the air, charged with electricity. 

Sehun doesn’t know where else to go. 

He goes to Junmyeon.  
  


♄

  
  
The quad is empty save for the two of them, and the night is draped over them. Sehun only notices where Junmyeon is lying on the grass because he is glowing in a spot of warm orange light, his bracer fading to a warmer color to ease eye strain. Sehun stands there in the shadows for a moment, only watching, but eventually, he is overwhelmed, pulled by some invisible binding between the two of them. He moves, breathing in deeply as the shuffling sound of his boots along the turf makes a loud, but hushed sound in the dead quiet. The air is acidic and biting, and it is a strange comfort to him. 

He stands over Junmyeon’s body for a moment, and Junmyeon does not look up, keeps tapping on his bracer like he is in the flow. It is only once he’s finished with whatever he’s doing that he looks up, smiles at Sehun like the shattering of morning. 

“Hey,” Junmyeon says. “What’s up? You sounded all… _you_.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Distraught, anxious, a terror to himself and those who surround him,” Junmyeon smiles. He slings his arm out beside him, pats the turf. “Lie down, you big baby.” 

“I’m n—you know what, fuck you,” Sehun curses, but he obeys the order from his superior, lies beside Junmyeon’s body. “What were you doing out here?” 

“Working,” Junmyeon says. 

“Wait, really?” 

“No, idiot,” Junmyeon snorts. “I’m stargazing.” 

Sehun stares up at the black abyss above them, and he is comforted by space, by the supreme emptiness of it. They embrace that evening, him and the night and the man lying next to him, their forearms brushing against one another. 

“Why don’t you just go to your cabin?” Sehun wonders aloud. He turns, stares at Junmyeon’s profile, at once sharp and soft. “You can… you can project these things.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he turns to look at Sehun, “yeah, I know.” 

Sehun looks away, and he can feel his face flooding with heat. Did it ever feel like this with Kyungsoo? Did he ever… did he ever _want_ this badly? Maybe it is a testament to how correct Kyungsoo is about Junmyeon’s effect on Sehun, but Sehun can’t remember ever feeling so desperate for something. Can’t remember ever feeling so purely _anything_ , such undiluted emotion. 

“What’s wrong?” Junmyeon asks, and Sehun can see from his peripheral vision that Junmyeon is still looking at him, still studying him, and it feels too much like being on display. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Sehun says, “just needed some air.” 

“You’ve got an oxygen machine in your cabin,” Junmyeon taunts. 

“You’re very funny, and I find you amusing.” 

“You’re trying to be sarcastic, but in your flimsy attempt at irony, you’ve stumbled onto the uncomfortable truth,” Junmyeon laughs, and he looks back to the sky. Sehun feels relieved, breathes out shakily. “It’s not a crime to have feelings.” 

Sehun’s stomach turns the way it does whenever Junmyeon says something like that, like his body is trying to reject it, evacuate the thought before it can settle in his blood. 

“You always say stuff like that,” Sehun says. “W-Why?” 

“One, because I think you need to hear it. And two, because I believe it. In your heart of hearts, you believe it too.” 

“No, I don’t,” Sehun argues. “Why would you say that?” 

“Because it’s the truth. You wouldn’t lie next to me looking at the stars if you didn’t believe it. You wouldn’t go to me over your closest, most trusted friend if you didn’t believe it.” Junmyeon turns, and for some reason, Sehun turns too, looks into Junmyeon’s eyes. “You know instinct is useful. You know our emotions are good for us.” He offers Sehun a little smile, nothing more than the curve of his lips. “You feel more strongly than any of us.” 

_Yes, I do._

“No, I don’t.” 

“Yes,” Junmyeon says, and he reaches out, brushes his fingers against Sehun’s cheek, “you do.” 

A split second marries another, hairline and brittle, and they lie there under the deep navy night. Junmyeon cups Sehun’s cheek in the palm of his hand, and it is gentle, kind. He cannot be anything other than good when he touches Sehun like this, when he speaks to Sehun like they are cut from the same cloth. Parts of the whole, iridescent, navy, gold.  
  


♄

  
  
Things move tensely, and Junmyeon is careful around Kyungsoo. He must know by now that Kyungsoo suspects him because he keeps his joking to a minimum, lets Kyungsoo take the lead on things. It is different, hearing Kyungsoo’s voice louder than Junmyeon’s in the room, but it isn’t entirely unpleasant. Kyungsoo has a quiet confidence that Sehun’s always respected, and it hearkens back to the original triad, Minseok, Kyungsoo, and himself sharing the reins. 

So much has changed since then. The stakes are so much higher now. Maybe it makes more sense for the most senior among them to have taken charge, but Junmyeon lets Kyungsoo draw battle plans, lets him prep the three of them, lets him key in the simulations. More often than not, Junmyeon wears a scowl on his face, and in any other circumstance, Sehun would find it funny. He doesn’t find it funny then, though. Not much at all. 

Whether it is matters of love or war, he feels caught between the two of them. Maybe, Sehun thinks, it’s all the same. Love and war. 

Sehun takes him for a walk, thinks maybe it will settle him down the way it used to calm _him_ down when Junmyeon would bring him out into the quad. They walk side by side, not saying a word, and Sehun wonders if he should kick off the conversation with something. Ultimately, he has no idea what to say, so he stays quiet, just listening to the sound of their boots against the turf. 

At the very least, the starshine wipes the scowl away. Junmyeon inhales and exhales like he’s breathing in magic, taking it from the breeze. They do a few lazy laps in silence before Junmyeon walks over to a bench. Sehun has the choice to leave, he always has the choice to leave, but he follows. Figures he’s the one who brought Junmyeon here. The very least he could do is listen to what he has to say. 

They sit next to each other, hands braced on the metal of the bench. Still, Sehun has no idea what to say to him, so he just lets Junmyeon start when he wants. 

“I’m being underutilized,” he says, kicking his feet as he lets them dangle.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Sehun answers. 

Junmyeon makes a soft noise of disgust. “Don’t say that.” 

“Why?” Sehun looks at him, and the scowl is back. “I thought it was a nice thing to say.” 

“ _Sorry you feel that way_ ,” Junmyeon mocks. He stares at the turf under them. “It’s not like these feelings aren’t being caused by something. Someone.” 

“They always say in lessons that—” 

“Oh, please spare me the lesson,” Junmyeon says. 

“They say that if you’re a strong-minded individual with control over your own energy, then no one can _make_ you feel anything,” Sehun says. “Emotions are just different reactions to stimuli.” 

“I’m looking forward to the day this ends,” Junmyeon says. 

“What?” 

Junmyeon gestures to Sehun. “All that propaganda shit. It’s surreal to hear you talk like that when it’s not really what you think.” 

“It’s what we’re taught,” Sehun says. 

“They beat it into your head.” Junmyeon smiles at him. “You’re very good at repeating it.” 

“What do you want me to say?” Sehun asks. 

“What you actually think,” Junmyeon says, tilting his head to the side. “For a change.” 

Sehun inhales sharply, tries to breathe in some of the magic as he looks out to the middle distance. He doesn’t want to look in Junmyeon’s eyes. “I think his plan will work.” Out of his peripheral vision, he sees Junmyeon’s shoulders collapse a bit. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Junmyeon says. “I know… I know your heart is in the right place. I know you… you just wanna help.” 

“You don’t think he wants to help?” 

“I think he’s got other things in mind,” Junmyeon says.

“Like what?” 

“I’m not a mind reader.” 

“You’ve never had much of a problem filling in the gaps before,” Sehun snorts. “Why stop now?” 

“I don’t know who you’re gonna side with now,” Junmyeon says. Sehun looks at him, and curiously, Junmyeon has never looked more sincere, never looked more like a human. “I don’t wanna put you in the middle, but you put yourself there sometimes.” 

“Do I?” 

“You can’t make up your mind on people,” Junmyeon says, and it should sound like an accusation of some sort, a way to push guilt, but it doesn’t. Just feels like someone telling him the truth. 

“No,” Sehun admits. “I can’t.” 

“At least you’ve identified the problem, then,” Junmyeon says. He looks off towards the building, and he holds his hand up, sweat covering his brow as he blocks the light from his eyes. “I’m gonna do my level fuckin’ best here. You know that, right?” 

“I know.” 

“I would never put either of you in danger just because of a silly personal feud,” Junmyeon says. 

“I know.” 

“Do you know?” 

“I know,” Sehun repeats. He watches Junmyeon smile, and he feels himself smile too. “I’m sorry.” 

The smile fades, but Junmyeon doesn’t look at him. Keeps his eyes on the towering building ahead of them. “Why are you sorry?” 

“For everything,” Sehun answers. 

“Ah, it’s okay,” Junmyeon says. “Don’t be sorry. You… you’re just always caught up in the middle of this bullshit.” He shakes his head. “If anything, I feel like I should apologize to you.” 

“No,” Sehun says, because at this point, the only thing he _doesn’t_ want from Junmyeon is an apology.  
  


♄

  
  
They get their deployment date, and Sehun feels incredibly ill-prepared for the emotions that surge through him. 

He is scared. He is desperate. He is anxious. He is riddled with desire. 

_Meet me tonight_ , the message reads, a location pin attached, and Sehun labors over it even though he shouldn’t. Even though he should do anything but. He lets his fingers slide over the slick display of his bracer, pretends they are running along the soft curve of Junmyeon’s neck. 

He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, what kind of infection has taken root, but he cannot deny it any longer. There is something addictive about Junmyeon, insatiable and undeniable, and he tells himself that maybe once will be enough. Maybe once is all he’ll need before he can kick this habit, this frivolous thing that refuses to leave him. 

He waits in his dorm, and he shuts his eyes, listening to the tempered voice of the focused meditation mix. He waits until everything is calm, until the voice dwindles to a whisper, until the lights fall to complete darkness, until the time is right. 

Sehun throws back the bedclothes before pulling it neat once more, and he slides into his boots as quietly as he can manage. He sneaks out of his bed, bracer unlit, but once he steps into the dim hallway, he taps on the pin, letting it direct him. Down to Junmyeon’s room, a little alcove in the building, a window looking out over the quad. 

He walks slowly, and the wrongness is eating him alive. Every step, he tells himself to turn around, to find some other way to combat this feeling, but the way he feels… he can’t stop it. He can’t. They told him he could stop it, but he can’t. Emotions can’t be thought away. Emotions are sticky, and he is painted with them. 

The lights pass him by, and before long, he is approaching the alcove. He studies his bracer before dispelling the navigation. He breathes in. Steps forward into the light of the stars. And Junmyeon looks… different. Peeled open, somehow. _His hair is normally different, more styled, more red in the halogens, and that’s why you feel an attraction to him now, the deep scarlet_ , Sehun tells himself. _He’s usually sharper. More put together. This is different. He looks different. Why would he look different? Why now?_

“Hey,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun avoids looking at his mouth. 

“Hey.” 

“Sorry for… all this.” He looks out the window, into the dark of the night. “It probably could have waited.” 

“N-No, it couldn’t,” Sehun says. “It’s… it’s good.” 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says softly, and as Sehun steps forward into the alcove, Junmyeon reaches out, punches him lightly in the shoulder before they both fall back to opposite sides. “Good work today.” 

Sehun presses his back up against the wall, and it is cold. Sobering. _You don’t have to do this_ , he tells himself. _You could walk away._

“Yeah, you too.” 

Silence, and Sehun doesn’t know whether he should preserve it or shatter it. He looks down to Junmyeon’s boots, shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“Should we talk?” Junmyeon offers. 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says, and he plays with the frayed edge of the inside of his suit. “I don’t know that I’m going to like what we talk about.” 

Junmyeon breathes out a little laugh, and for some silly reason, it makes tension fall away from Sehun’s shoulders. 

“Why not?” 

Something about it makes Sehun want to ask how Junmyeon can be so many different things all at once. He’s never seen Junmyeon like this. He’s never heard Junmyeon so sweet and sanded down. If he had, he could prepare himself for this, mentally and emotionally. But now, he’s accosted. He’s hit at every angle. He’s trapped. Trapped in something inescapable by design. 

Who is Junmyeon? Why does he affect Sehun this way? Who is he _really_? Can Sehun trust him? Can Sehun trust _anything_ he says or does? 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says, and he looks up, devastated by the vulnerable look on Junmyeon’s face. “I-I just… I don’t know what’s going on between us.” 

Junmyeon shrugs like it’s easy. 

“Nothing, if you don’t want there to be,” he says. “But if you want there to be something, then—”

“Then?” 

“Then you should kiss me,” Junmyeon says. “Kiss me now, or you might never get another chance.” 

Sehun doesn’t wait any longer than that, closes the gap between them, and presses his lips against Junmyeon’s chastely. It doesn’t last for more than a second, but when he pulls back, Junmyeon’s mouth is split into a delighted smile. 

“Fuck, I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Junmyeon whispers. “Didn’t think you had the guts.” 

He swallows thickly. 

“I got guts,” Sehun says, and his face is warm, so warm that he wants to reach up and touch it, cold hands to cool himself down. 

“Maybe,” Junmyeon says with a little grin, and the air swallows the word whole. “Do it again. Let’s make sure.” 

Sehun shouldn’t be so affected by him, but there is a swelling storm inside him, the eye where his heart should be, and in that moment of clarity, he realizes that he is in love with Junmyeon, that he has fallen deeply for him despite everything else. 

He takes Junmyeon’s face in his hands, and when Sehun kisses him again, it is a bit more insistent, a bit more demanding. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, acting only on instinct and desire, but Junmyeon seems well-versed. He takes Sehun by the back of the neck, fingers tangling with the ends of Sehun’s hair, and he licks against Sehun’s lips, making him gasp. 

It doesn’t… it doesn’t feel like he imagined. In a way, it is much better. 

Sehun withdraws, but Junmyeon’s hands stay where they are, holding him carefully, gently. 

“Good?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun agrees. “Good.” 

“Again?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “I-If you want.” 

“If I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t ask,” Junmyeon says, and he presses his mouth to Sehun’s again.

Sehun is beginning to relax into it, beginning to let himself explore this new feeling that is stirring inside him, and he thinks that he is grateful to be doing this with Junmyeon. As much as he loves Kyungsoo still, as much as he wanted this with him, it feels so right to be doing it with Junmyeon, to be finding something new with Junmyeon against him. Guiding him. _Leading_ him.

Sehun wants to be proficient in this the way he wants to be proficient in all things, and Junmyeon is a good teacher. He sighs against Sehun when he does something right, and Sehun chases after that approval, eager to please, eager to serve. He doesn’t even know what part of his brain is being activated right now, the amygdala, the anterior cingulate cortex, the thalamus. He feels like everything is lighting up all at once, and when Junmyeon opens his mouth, licks along Sehun’s bottom lip, Sehun shudders, shoving Junmyeon back by the shoulders. 

He is being undone. 

“What?” Junmyeon asks. “I-Is that bad?” He tilts his head, and Sehun wants to hit him, wants to kiss him harder than before. “Should we just do, like, closed-mouth stuff?” 

“N-No, I just—,” and Sehun doesn’t know how to say it, doesn’t know what words to use without feeling like an idiot, like a fool, like someone who’s behind the curve. “I’ve never done this before.” 

He waits in shame, thinking about Junmyeon’s romance readers. Thinking about the easy way Junmyeon throws out affection. They’re too different. Sehun is too… Sehun is unworthy of something that feels like this. 

“Hey,” Junmyeon says, and he gently lifts Sehun’s face with the fingers under his jaw, and when Sehun finally gathers up the courage to look back into Junmyeon’s eyes, they are crinkled into half-moons as he smiles. “No worries.” 

“S-Shut up,” Sehun commands, and he bats Junmyeon’s hand away from his face, curling his spine like he can protect himself that way. “I’m sorry I let it get this far.” 

“This far?” Junmyeon snorts. “What, because you’ve never kissed with tongue before, you can’t ever do it?” 

Anger surges up in him, the kind he’s learned to associate with Junmyeon. 

“I just don’t want to look like an _idiot_.” 

“So what if you do? Look like an idiot, I mean,” Junmyeon says. “What’s the worst that could happen?” 

Sehun stares at him, stares at this wondrous person before him, terrible and incredible and a menace and a godsend. Junmyeon is cruelly good. Stunning. His mouth is red with love, and Sehun put it there, that kiss of blood. He did that. Him. 

_Maybe anger is the wrong word,_ Sehun thinks. _Maybe it’s never been anger. Maybe it’s always been an intense need, an intense desire to prove myself. A chip on my shoulder that wouldn’t ever fall off, not so long as he’s around. I wanted to be good. I wanted to be better. I want to be someone he can be proud of. I want to be cherished. Treasured. Adored. I want to be his. His. His._

Sehun crushes Junmyeon into another kiss, and he stops thinking about what he looks like, what Junmyeon might think of him, what anything means. Stops thinking, starts feeling, and the knot of desperation starts to unfold, unravel. He is spiraling, hungry and hopeless, and the way Junmyeon kisses him makes him feel like he is not alone in this, reminds him that they are together. 

A shot of guilt pierces his chest as he thinks about Kyungsoo, and he breathes heavily as Junmyeon licks into his mouth, takes him deeper into the labyrinth of pleasure. Sehun pushes forward, Junmyeon’s back against the wall, and he thinks about this, focuses on this, on what he wants. And he wants Junmyeon. God help him, he does. 

Their bodies move against one another, and Sehun lets several hundred thousand years of instinct tell him what to do. As Junmyeon wedges a leg between Sehun’s thighs, Sehun grinds his hips into the hard muscle of Junmyeon’s quad, a little whimper leaking out like steam from his mouth. He can _feel_ Junmyeon smile through the kiss, and it is pure electricity running along his skin, making his hair stand on end as goosebumps line him. He’s never felt like this. Who knows if he’ll ever feel like this again? 

They kiss, and they push against each other, push and pull, push and pull. Junmyeon’s hands hold Sehun by the hips, by the shoulder, by the jaw, and he can’t keep track of where they go and what they must see. Junmyeon kisses down the side of Sehun’s face, down his neck, and when he begins to suck at the thin skin near Sehun’s pulse, he absently works his hips in circles, squeezing his eyes shut as he wraps his arms around Junmyeon’s neck. 

“Do you like that?” Junmyeon asks, and the kisses are open-mouthed and wet, hot, furiously good. “Does it feel good?” 

“Yes,” Sehun whines, and he is momentarily alarmed by the sound of his own voice, high and needy. 

“More?”

There is a split second where Sehun considers telling him _No_ , but even he knows better now. There is something there between them, knotted from frayed edges, and Sehun wants more of it. Doesn’t care how messy it gets in the end. 

This could be a trap. He knows it probably is. Junmyeon is too smart, knows too much, and it all adds up. There is something about him, drenched in black, and Sehun should back away from it. In reality, it only makes him want it more. More darkness. Deeper and deeper. 

“Yes,” Sehun says. “Yes, please.” 

Junmyeon grins as he peels open the very top of Sehun’s jumpsuit, a finger pushing the zipper down like he’s making a cut in the fabric. He begins to kiss the hollow of Sehun’s throat. Lower and lower. Sehun’s never felt so irrational, never felt even a sliver of this. _Is this why they always read stories about things like this? Is this why triads fell apart? Because love and sex are this potent?_

“We should do this somewhere else,” Junmyeon whispers, and it is a crazy feeling, someone’s lips on your own, body pressed so close that you can’t tell where they begin and you end. 

Sehun’s heart and stomach are in his mouth, and he doesn’t want to accidentally spit them out over Junmyeon’s front, so he swallows, swallows twice, and then speaks, his hands shaking. 

“Where should we go?” he says, and he wants to sound like he is in control, but he knows that Junmyeon can see right through him. “Y-Your cabin or mine?”

Junmyeon looks into Sehun’s eyes, and Sehun tries to look past all the artifice and facade. _Are you as fragile as I am? Are you just looking for someone to hold onto? Or is this bigger than just us two?_

Sehun wants it to be miniscule. A molecule just for them. But it is large and scary, and so much is at stake. The universe as they know it, and Sehun is throwing it away just for a moment in Junmyeon’s warmth. 

Junmyeon turns, and Sehun misses him as he goes. Sehun is stunned into a complete freeze, but Junmyeon turns back, offering Sehun a hand. 

“Come on,” Junmyeon says, “this way.” 

Sehun allows himself to be led, the winding halls of the wing passing them by. Junmyeon’s hand is tight around his own, and he could pull away if he wanted. He could shake Junmyeon off, but he doesn’t want to. In some tucked-away part of himself, he’s always wanted this. Always wanted to see what it would be like. Ever since he met Junmyeon. 

It is all quiet, filled with a fog of silence, and he feels hazy as he follows Junmyeon’s lead, dizzy with want. 

He realizes belatedly that he is mussed, and as they move, he fixes his hair, zips his jumpsuit back up. It is useless, of course; there’s no one out this late. But Sehun struggles for a semblance of control, and he’s always been able to control this. The way he looks. 

Junmyeon looks back at him, smirks. 

“It’s okay. There’s no one here. There isn’t anyone to judge you.” 

“I’m not worried about that,” Sehun says. 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says, and he turns back around, continues to pull Sehun through the halls until they reach a room that Sehun has never been in before. He puts his thumb against the scanner, and when it opens, he pulls Sehun through the doors. “What do you think?” 

Sehun looks around, and the halogen shudders on to reveal… a closet full of old materials. A long metal table, some stacked chairs, shelves full of old tech that’s long obsolete. Sehun wonders why it hasn’t been incinerated or disposed of yet. 

“It’s… cozy.” 

“You have a way of making that sound so fucking terrible,” Junmyeon smiles, and he puts Sehun’s back against the door, pushes back into his space. He is a breath away from kissing Sehun when he stops, and he looks into Sehun’s eyes. “What do you think?” 

Sehun follows the movement of his mouth, slick and good. 

“What do I think about what?”

“About continuing,” Junmyeon says, and he reaches up, brushes his thumb along Sehun’s bottom lip. “About moving forward.” 

“W-Whatever,” Sehun says, feigning a calmness that he could never achieve, and he leans in, kisses Junmyeon again, remembering just how easy it is to fall into this. 

He doesn’t know how long it lasts, only knows how good it makes him feel, how sweet it tastes. He kisses Junmyeon hungrily, makes up for lost time when he was deliberating, questioning, thinking too fucking much. But now he’s not thinking at all; his head is totally empty, save for thoughts of Junmyeon, thoughts of their naked skin pressed together. 

Junmyeon turns them, a whirlwind of an embrace, until Junmyeon’s back is against the door, until Sehun gets the picture and wedges a leg between Junmyeon’s thighs. It is much too good. There shouldn’t be anything in the universe that is so delicious, and yet, there it is… the warmth of someone else. The way they pull you in, saying _Yes, yes, yes._

When Junmyeon pushes Sehun back by the shoulders, hands firm and insistent, Sehun goes, follows Junmyeon’s lead the way he always does, always will. 

He is soon deposited next to the long metal table, the backs of his thighs pressing up against the coldness, and he lowers himself onto the flat surface, watching as Junmyeon watches him back. 

“Good?” Junmyeon asks carefully. 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says. 

“You wanna stop, you just say so.” Junmyeon puts his hands across Sehun’s thighs, and Sehun supposes it’s meant to be comforting, but all he can feel is simmering arousal, bubbling beneath the surface of his skin. “Okay?” He smiles. “Do we have an understanding?” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

Junmyeon breathes in, breathes out slowly, and he looks down at Sehun, eyes raking over Sehun’s body. 

“I want to kiss you again,” he says, like it’s a secret. 

It fills Sehun with indelible confidence, the kind that can be addictive and dangerous. He feels invincible. The universe stops for them, won’t start up again until they are resting against one another once more. 

“Come here,” Sehun says. “Come here, a-and—”

He is furiously hot, and he reaches up, pulls down the zipper at his neck so he can _breathe_ , so he can _think_.

“You want me to touch you?” Junmyeon asks, and his fingers dance along Sehun’s collar, playing with the zipper, the patch of skin that Sehun just revealed. “You have to tell me.” 

“I… I—”

Junmyeon looks down at Sehun. 

“Say it,” Junmyeon says, and it is a gentle voice, draping over Sehun. 

“Touch me,” Sehun says, and he closes his eyes. He’s never felt like this before. He’s never felt like he needed something so very much. “Please. Touch me.” 

“Open your eyes.” 

Sehun is slow to obey, but when he finally opens his eyes again, Junmyeon is backlit by the halogens of the closet, a cold but soft white light surrounding him. He is incomprehensibly beautiful, supremely beautiful, beyond reproach, beyond all things. 

“Say it again,” Junmyeon taunts, and it is not cruel. If anything, the cruelty has been waiting so very long, denying himself something that he wants so fucking badly, it makes his teeth hurt. 

“Touch me,” Sehun says, voice incredibly even for the way he feels inside, like he is being torn apart by his own need. “Touch me, please.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and his hand lowers to Sehun’s skin, fingers splayed across Sehun’s pectoral, “I’ll touch you if you want me to.” 

Sehun swallows thickly, reaches up. He takes Junmyeon by the zipper, and he pulls it down slowly. Skin, skin. Sehun wants to taste it. He shouldn’t, but he wants to. 

“You wanna touch me too?” Junmyeon asks, and it is crystallized honey, starlight, flowers, all the best things in the universe. He takes Sehun’s hand in his, and he directs it under the rough fabric of the suit. Places it against his heart. “Touch me. I want you to.” 

It is simmering hot under Sehun’s skin, and he doesn’t know if he can handle it, doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stand up to this feeling, so massive and warm inside him. 

Junmyeon gets onto the table, kneeling between Sehun’s spread legs, and it looks like something Sehun saw once, a hacked ent-option on someone’s tablet. He shouldn’t be seeing something like this. He shouldn’t be getting to enjoy it. 

“Do it,” Junmyeon says. “I want it.” 

Sehun’s stomach pulls tight as he runs his fingers over Junmyeon’s skin, over the muscle, and he watches with rapt attention as Junmyeon closes his eyes, letting a quiet moan fall over Sehun’s body like rain. 

“More,” Junmyeon says, and his eyes flutter open, lashes long. “Come on. I want it.” 

He keeps saying it, but the repetition doesn’t sand down the words even a touch. It still manages to work Sehun down to nothing, _I want it, I want it_ , because Sehun wants it too. And he shouldn’t take it, but he will. 

Sehun takes the zipper, pulls it down to Junmyeon’s stomach, and they are magnetized, Sehun’s northern hands to Junmyeon’s southern skin. He lets his touch glide easily over Junmyeon, tickling with his fingertips as he moves lower, down to the cut of his abdomen. 

“Fuck,” Junmyeon says. “More.” 

Sehun doesn’t know how to give him more, doesn’t know what the next step is, but he moves the way he thinks he should; he takes Junmyeon down by the split sides of his suit, pulls Junmyeon’s body to his own, the sudden meeting of warm flesh making Sehun hiss out a sound of pleasure that surprises him. 

Junmyeon kisses him firmly, hands clever as they move over Sehun’s body, tickling and teasing, and Sehun moans into his mouth, an echoing sound that makes Sehun shiver against Junmyeon. And as they kiss, Junmyeon slowly lowers himself, rests his entire weight on Sehun, hot and lovely. 

_It shouldn’t be this good,_ he thinks. _It shouldn’t feel so good._

But it doesn’t matter whether it should or shouldn’t. He is drowning in the feelings that Junmyeon gives him. He is losing each and every little bit of himself in the moment.

“Is this too much?” Junmyeon whispers, and Sehun bites his lip as Junmyeon stares down at him, eyes raking like the sharp edge of his fingernails along the skin of Sehun’s throat. “Should we stop for now?” 

Out after out. And the meaning is clear. _You can run anytime you want. This won’t follow you._

But Sehun doesn’t want to run. Sehun wants it to follow him like a shadow, creeping along his shoulders. Embracing him. 

“No,” Sehun says. “Let’s keep going.” 

Junmyeon smiles down at him, and Sehun’s stomach flips, flips, flips as he pulls Junmyeon back down into a kiss, licking into Junmyeon’s mouth possessively. How many people have done this to him? How many people have gotten to taste Junmyeon the way Sehun is tasting him now? It fills Sehun with a cloudy wave of jealous water, boiling and alive. He kisses Junmyeon more insistently, more passionately, more _everything._

_Don’t think about anyone but me, because right now, all I can think about is you._

“Fuck,” Junmyeon moans, and he kisses the side of Sehun’s face, kisses down his neck, sucking a mark to Sehun’s throat. “I didn’t think—” 

“What?” 

“I didn’t think we’d get this far,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun can feel Junmyeon’s smile along his skin. “I didn’t think you’d let me.” 

“I’m letting you,” Sehun breathes, and it is as much a sign to Junmyeon as it is to himself. “Come on, let’s—” 

‘What? Further?” 

_What’s further than this?_ Sehun wonders. _What could be better than him against me, kissing me?_

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun stutters. “I-If you want.” 

Junmyeon breathes out, a smile on his face. 

“I want it as long as you do,” Junmyeon says, “though I don’t know if you know what you’re asking for.” 

It makes him feel small, stupid and silly, and he knows he needs to do something drastic. Something unlike himself. Something to show Junmyeon he knows what he’s doing even when he has no fucking idea. 

Sehun takes Junmyeon’s hand, brings it to his mouth. Junmyeon watches raptly as Sehun takes Junmyeon’s index finger between his lips, sucking it and licking it with his tongue. He still feels ridiculous, feels stupid, but he pretends. Pretends like he’s a character in one of Junmyeon’s romance readers. _Take me_ , he thinks. _Show me how far this extends below the surface._

“Is this what you think about?” Junmyeon asks quietly. “Doing things like this?” 

Sehun gently pulls the finger from his mouth, lets it paint slick across the seam of his lips. 

“Not before I met you,” Sehun whispers. 

“And since?” Junmyeon challenges. 

“Too much.” 

Junmyeon kisses him fiercely, and it feels like explosions of matter and antimatter, bright and terrible. Sehun feels himself dripping like condensation down cold metal, falling apart into liquid. 

“Can I show you what I’ve been thinking about doing to you?” Junmyeon asks. “Ever since I met you?” 

“Yes.” He looks down at the bare skin. Finds it addictive. “Yes, show me.” 

Junmyeon reaches between them, and the space gives Sehun a chance to look. Through the thin material of his underwear, Sehun can see what he previously felt. Junmyeon’s cock is hard, thick, and Sehun reaches forward, stroking along the darkened line of shadow. It makes Junmyeon shudder, and Sehun feels a streak of power run through him. He takes Junmyeon’s cock in his hand, strokes it through the fabric, and Junmyeon moans lowly. 

“S-So I don’t need to teach you,” Junmyeon smiles. 

“I’m a quick learner,” Sehun says, drenched in that confidence. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard.” 

Junmyeon pulls at the band of his underwear, and Sehun’s throat goes dry when Junmyeon drags them down to the tops of his thighs. His cock is pretty, just like the rest of him. Sehun doesn’t know whether to push Junmyeon onto his back or to lie there and take what he’s given. 

“You want to touch?” Junmyeon asks, and he takes Sehun’s hand in his. “Hm?” 

Sehun bites his lip and nods as Junmyeon directs him, their hands wrapping around Junmyeon’s cock. 

“I don’t know how you manage to be so sweet but so… so _you_ ,” Junmyeon says, and his hips kick forward on their own, his cock fucking through the hole of their hands. “You’re so—” 

“What?” Sehun asks. 

“You’re pure sex.” 

And it sits along his skin like nerves pricked from his skin, laid in branches. He is nervously aroused, so sick with it that he trembles as he touches Junmyeon, drags the moans from his lips. The conviction grows as he lets more and more of Junmyeon’s pleasured sounds pool in his mouth before he drinks them down, settling like liquid fire in his stomach. He wants it to be good. He wants Junmyeon to come back for more. 

“Does it feel good?” Sehun asks, and he looks down, studies the way Junmyeon pushes through the touch. He checks Junmyeon’s gaze, sees him staring down at Sehun. Sehun leans up, kisses Junmyeon lushly, licking into his mouth. “Do you like the way I touch you?” 

“Yes,” Junmyeon groans, and he stares down at Sehun like he’s confused. “Yes, I… you really are a quick learner.” 

But he’s moving with instinct, moving by Junmyeon’s hand at the back of his neck. Junmyeon gently lays Sehun back down, their bodies flat, and when they push against each other, flushed skin against flushed skin, Sehun breaks. The moan that shatters out of him feels like one he’s been holding back forever, and he cries into Junmyeon’s ear, desperate for more. 

“I’m… I’ve been dreaming about this,” Junmyeon whispers as he thrusts his hips, as he pushes his cock against Sehun’s, messy and sweet. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

Sehun moans brokenly, squeezes his arms around Junmyeon’s body. He tries to work up against the pressure, tries to chase his pleasure even though he never wants this to end. _How can we make this last forever? How can we spend eternity inside this moment?_

“Talk to me,” Junmyeon whispers. “Tell me how you feel.” 

“I-I can’t,” Sehun chokes, and he feels tears leap to his eyes. “I can’t. I’m—” 

“You can,” Junmyeon says, and he kisses the lobe of Sehun’s ear, pulling another ragged sound directly from Sehun’s chest. 

“I can’t, I’m—” 

“You feel too good?” Junmyeon asks, and he reaches down between their bodies, twists the tight hole of his hand around the head of Sehun’s cock. It is _beautiful torture_. “What about that, huh?” 

“P-Please, I—” 

“You what?” 

“More,” Sehun gasps. “Please, more.” 

Junmyeon gets onto his knees, straddles Sehun’s body, and the sight alone is fucking delicious, terrible, and perfect. He watches in awe as Junmyeon lifts his hand to his mouth, and when he brings it back down, circles it around Sehun’s cock again, it is slick, tight, too fucking good. Sehun’s body reacts before his mind is able, and he thrusts up with a groan, the noise rattling in his chest. 

“I want to fuck you so hard you just fall apart,” Junmyeon says, and the passion behind the words, it should scare Sehun, but it has the opposite effect. Sehun wants it. Wants it with all of him. 

“I’m… I’m—” 

“What?” Junmyeon looks down at Sehun’s body, notices the way he trembles, shakes. “You gonna come?” 

“N-No,” Sehun lies. 

“Should I make you?” Junmyeon asks. 

_No. I want this to last forever._

“What if I come with you?” Junmyeon asks, and he lowers himself back to the flat of Sehun’s stomach, an arm wrapped around Sehun’s neck. “What if we come together?” 

Heat swells inside Sehun’s body, and he is being pulled in so many different directions, thin lines of him drawn to the far corners of the universe as he breathes unsteadily, as he tries to catch his breath. 

“Tell me,” Junmyeon says. “Tell me you wanna come.” 

“I-I want to come,” Sehun confesses, and it sounds so pitiful, but he cannot deny it. It is the essence of him now, swallowing up everything else, devouring him. He is desire and want and need, basic and eager. Junmyeon is consuming him, making him think of nothing else but _this_. “Please, I wanna come.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon whispers, and he kisses along the column of Sehun’s throat as he speaks, the words vibrating through Sehun’s entire body with heat. “I wanna see you come.” 

They grind against each other, and they are selfish with each other. Sehun seeks his end, their mutual end, and it is a dizzying feeling, being engulfed by this kind of inferno. His eyes are brimming with tears as they work against each other, sanding down the edges of each other, and Sehun absently wonders as he hurdles over the cliff, headfirst into the ocean of orgasm, if this is where they were meant to end up. In each other’s arms. 

Junmyeon follows close behind him, mouth at Sehun’s neck, and Sehun moans weakly as Junmyeon continues to push against him. His body moves like he’s being shocked, trembling clenches of his abdomen every time Junmyeon thrusts. When he comes, he makes a high-pitched sound, and Sehun’s stomach goes tight with desire. He feels himself twitch. He could do it again, he thinks. Again and again. 

Junmyeon lays his body down onto Sehun’s, and as Junmyeon breathes in, Sehun breathes out. They do that, trade breaths, and it’s almost like they’re making room for each other. Junmyeon is slow to slide off to Sehun’s side, and he presses a soft kiss to Sehun’s throat, following it with the tip of his tongue and a satisfied hum. 

There is not a long break between the raucous sound of love and Junmyeon’s external monologue, and Sehun didn’t know why he expected anything different. 

“Was that good?” Junmyeon asks. “One to ten. Please rate your experience.” 

“Please, shut up,” Sehun says, and he covers his eyes with his hand so that he stops from splitting into a smile. “Just stop talking.” 

“Why, am I making you uncomfortable?” 

“Yes.” 

Junmyeon thunks his head heavily onto Sehun’s chest as he rests in the cradle of Sehun’s arm, their bodies stacked neatly together. 

“I would give the experience an eight,” Junmyeon comments. 

Sehun lowers the hand from his face. 

“An _eight_?” 

“Are you shocked?” 

“I just… thought it would be higher,” Sehun says. “Did you not like it?” 

“Of course I liked it,” Junmyeon says. “But an eight is already a very high score. Are you saying you’d rate it higher?” 

Sehun’s face goes red, he can feel the way the heat jumps up to his cheeks, and he covers his face with his hand again. 

“You’re so fuckin’ cute,” Junmyeon praises, and it doesn’t help matters. Sehun smiles, holds his face with a hand. “Man. Precious.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“ _No_.” 

“Yes, or else I will dock you one point,” Junmyeon says. “And just remember, practice makes perfect.” 

The hint at a repeat makes Sehun’s insides feel all funny, and he tightens his hold on Junmyeon, a hand resting on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, okay,” Sehun says. 

“Used to acing things the first time around?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Kinda.” 

“Wunderkind. There’s a steep learning curve with sex.” He turns, fingers stroking along Sehun’s chest. “But you’ve got great… _potential_.” His hand slides down Sehun’s body, plays through the come before circling the head of his soft cock, tugging out a terrible whimper from Sehun’s mouth. “This is something, huh? Where’d you get something so nice? The Agency doesn’t pass out models like this every millenia.” 

“Shut up, you’re so _annoying_ ,” Sehun whines, and he is being played with, literally manipulated, but he can’t seem to stop it. Doesn’t want to stop it. 

Junmyeon laughs as he lets Sehun go, cuddling into his warmth, and they settle into silence, pleasant and full. 

Sehun shuts his eyes as he matches his inhales and exhales with Junmyeon’s, their bodies moving in another unison. He doesn’t know that he’s ever felt so happy, so complete, but he remembers about oxytocin then, and he reminds himself that it would feel the same with anyone. 

_Wouldn’t it?_

They lie there on the metal table for what feels like a small forever, and Sehun closes his eyes, feeling more blissed out than he’s ever felt before. He wonders if they’ll do it again. Wonders when. And maybe this is why people are so obsessed with sex. Maybe this is what he was missing out on all along. 

The more he thinks about it, though, the happier he is that he waited. It would have been different with anyone else. He’s happy he did it with Junmyeon. He’s happy they found each other. 

Junmyeon pats Sehun on the chest, and he gets up suddenly. 

“W-Where are you going?” Sehun asks, a rush of panic zipping through him. 

Junmyeon laughs, leans back down to press a kiss to Sehun’s lips. 

“Chill,” he says. “I’m gonna go get something to clean you up. Don’t want it to dry.” 

He gestures down to the mess on Sehun’s stomach, and Sehun groans. 

“Back in a second,” Junmyeon says, and without another word, Junmyeon zips up, hammers the button to the closet open, and leaves Sehun there etherized on the table, spread out like the stars. 

He is free to leave, he realizes, could just zip back up and clean himself in the bathrooms quickly, but he wants to wait. Wants to see what else the night holds for them. 

And so he waits, waits until Junmyeon comes traipsing back into the room. He sits up as the door opens, and Junmyeon’s gaze hits him squarely in the chest. 

“You look… so debauched,” Junmyeon says with a little devious grin, a wet rag in his hand. 

Sehun rolls his eyes, and Junmyeon chucks the balled-up rag onto Sehun’s chest, letting a wet _smack_ echo out into the closet. 

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Sehun says, squinting at Junmyeon as he cleans himself up, pulling his jumpsuit back on fully. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon smiles. “I know.” 

Sehun half-expects Junmyeon to walk back out of the room with how casual he sounds now, the difference stark now that it’s plain in front of Sehun’s face. Instead, Junmyeon gets back up onto the table, his body tucked up alongside Sehun’s. Sehun settles back down, content to cuddle, and he squeezes Junmyeon close. 

“Good?” Junmyeon asks. 

Sehun has never been very good at keeping things to himself, so he kisses Junmyeon’s hair, says, “Yes.” 

More silence, the happy, tailored kind, and Sehun revels in it. They could say something. They could say anything. But they don’t have to. And for a long while, they don’t.  
  


♄

  
  
They stay in that closet for a majority of the evening, but once Sehun checks his bracer, sees that the morning is coming for them, he taps Junmyeon on the shoulder. Their deployment approaches, hot on their heels. 

“We should go soon,” he whispers. 

“Worried about getting a demerit?” Junmyeon yawns. 

Sehun pats him on the shoulder, too weak to be called a slap. It makes Junmyeon laugh sleepily, and something about that, _that_ makes Sehun feel all stupid and liquid inside. 

“Before we go,” Junmyeon says, “I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

Sehun looks at him. “What?” 

A sickly odd quiet falls over him. Sehun doesn’t dare break it, doesn’t know what he would say even if he wanted to. He just waits there, waits in the in-between, waits for Junmyeon to rescue him with his words. 

“It just seems odd, doesn’t it?” Junmyeon says, and he runs his hand down Sehun’s chest. “Everything. The book, the DNA, the vocaloid?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, and he stares at Junmyeon, running his fingers through his hair. “Weird.” 

“It just seems like it’s… pointing back in our direction, doesn’t it? _My_ direction, specifically.” 

Sehun hums quietly, doesn’t want to disturb the pleasant feeling swimming in his blood. 

Junmyeon is slow to rest his cheek on Sehun’s chest, slow to look into Sehun’s eyes. 

“You trust me, don’t you?” Junmyeon asks, and his gaze seems dark, seems impenetrable but sharp. “We trust each other? I mean, I know we trust each other enough to kiss, but… but everything else too, right?” 

“Yes,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon breaks up all the quiet, all the pleasantness with just a look, and Sehun wants to tell him to stop. Wants to tell him that it’s enough. They can share this, the dopamine and oxytocin, and it doesn’t have to be anything other than that. 

“Don’t lie.” 

“It wasn’t a lie,” Sehun argues. 

Junmyeon lays his head flat on Sehun again, and he drags clever fingers down the cut of Sehun’s abdomen through the jumpsuit. It makes him shudder. 

“I’m not stupid,” Junmyeon whispers. “I know what he’s saying about me.” 

Sehun’s stomach goes tight, and he tries to ignore it. 

“Who?” 

“Don’t play dumb,” Junmyeon says, and he runs his hand down to Sehun’s hip bone. “I know he thinks I’m up to something.” He whips his head, looks into Sehun’s eyes. Sehun has never seen him look so scary, so steely and hard. “I’m telling you right now. Don’t believe him.” 

“O-Okay,” Sehun says. “Okay, I’m sorry.” 

The look fades, Junmyeon’s ice turning to water. 

“Don’t be sorry.” The flat of his hand sits on Sehun’s stomach, and it feels like he is possessing Sehun. It looks like a claim. “I just… I want you to trust me. I know things look bad sometimes, if you think about it too much, if you start looking, but I think—honestly, I think _someone’s trying to set me up_.” 

Sehun looks into his eyes. Wants to see deep down inside him, but he doesn’t think he can get past the surface. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Junmyeon says softly. 

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” 

“Yeah, you are,” Junmyeon says, and he pushes up, brings himself level with Sehun, brushes his mouth against Sehun’s. “You’re looking at me like I’m dangerous.” 

_Aren’t you?_

Sehun stretches up, kisses him, because Junmyeon has a mouth that should be kissed. 

Junmyeon makes a sound, rests himself on Sehun’s body fully. Sehun wonders how Junmyeon could be anything but pure when he feels like this, tastes like this, _loves like this_. 

They hold each other for a few more moments, and Sehun knows that he should repeat himself, tell Junmyeon that it’s time to go, but he can’t make the words come out of his mouth. Doesn’t want to say them. 

It is a realization that looks like silverstar, crystalline and blue: _I want to stay here forever. I don’t want to leave if I have to leave without him._

It is almost as though Junmyeon can hear his thoughts because he presses his palm to Sehun’s heart, feels it beat in his chest for a second and another before he pushes up, looking into Sehun’s eyes. He is too smart, too perceptive, and Sehun instinctively moves to him, his mouth and his heart for the taking. 

Junmyeon is smiling against his mouth as he kisses Sehun, drags him just a little bit deeper into the quicksand. Sehun laces his fingers through Junmyeon’s hair, kisses him with as much as he can. As much as he has to give. 

When Junmyeon pulls back, he pets his fingers down Sehun’s face, eyes glittering as he looks down at him. It is indulgent. Delicious. 

“Can we do it again real quick? Before we leave?” Junmyeon asks, his mouth against Sehun’s. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this for months.” 

It is a secret freely shared, and what is more addictive, more pleasurable than that? 

Sehun puts Junmyeon on his back, pulling his zipper down, and begins to kiss down his body, content to give him a few secrets to keep.  
  


♄

  
  
He sleeps for a couple hours, not more than that, and when his alarm blares in his ears, he has never regretted the job more. He can’t keep himself from wondering about what they could be if things were different, if there was a tomorrow not balanced on a razor edge. 

He and Junmyeon could be normal. They could maybe… they could have a life together. They could be something. 

But the only reason he let himself have this was because he knew he would never have another chance at it. Tomorrow is never promised, not in this line of work, but with what he’s prepared to do… he doesn’t know if he’s coming back. He doesn’t think he will. 

He gets his shower, he eats in his room. He laces his boots tight, tucks his staff under his arm as he walks through the halls. They are lined with people now, other agents sending them away with cheers. His mind goes blank, and their faces are empty. He doesn’t look at anything besides the lifter. If he looks around, he might feel regret over his decision. He might change his mind. 

When he steps into the hangar, the door shuts behind him, silent and airtight, and it hits him just how loud it was in the Agency as he was walking through. He breathes in, breathes out. He might have cherished this once. He might have let it convince him to stay. 

“Hey,” Kyungsoo says, and it makes Sehun look up. Kyungsoo is standing by one of the ships, tapping it with the end of his staff. “Sleep well?” 

“About as well as he could have,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun clears his throat until he stops. “Ready to kill shit?” 

“Ready,” Sehun says. 

“Ready.” 

They lift themselves into their ships, and as he closes his eyes, he listens to the countdown, to the liftoff, to the conversation between the man he loved and the man he loves. 

Something about the hum of the motors, the twisting of gears… he finds himself thinking about not coming back. About death, about dying. It wouldn’t be so terrible, he thinks. He’s already done what he wanted to do. His life has been full.  
  


♄

  
  
They are lowered down onto the planet, and he is shocked at how lively it is. There are dusty trees, hardened like steel. There is vegetation, hardy but lifelessly colored. Rusty brown, silvery grey, brown. They must be strong so as to resist the trembling arms of death. 

“You see that there?” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun looks off, tries to see what he’s referring to until he spots it, a massive spot of hazy white. “Host.” 

“Can’t get that close without something fucking _strong_ ,” Junmyeon says. “I dunno how strong of a bubble you’ll have to make.” 

“We’re going ahead with the cataclysm,” Sehun reminds him. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Junmyeon says. “All right. Let’s find out who is dragging us down.” 

Kyungsoo scoffs, and together, they disengage from their ships, stepping out into the world unknown. Kyungsoo immediately brings up the life scan, walks them in the direction of the hostages, and Junmyeon is quick to build his bubble around the three of them. 

“The air smells, doesn’t it?” Kyungsoo says, and he inhales. “Like, it burns a bit?” 

“The scrubber is removing most of the acid,” Junmyeon says, “but you can still taste it.” 

Sehun stares up at the sky, the way it shifts white and yellow. It is a haunting vision. He tries to ignore it as they round a great cliff, as they find the hostages in their makeshift camp. They look dirty, they look scared, and when they see the badge, the insignia of the Agency, a few begin to weep in relief. 

Junmyeon drops his bubble. 

“We’re here to help,” Junmyeon says, stepping forward. “We’re here to protect you. And we’re gonna get you all out of here, okay? You’ll be relocated someplace safe. I give you my word.” 

They look as timid as little flutterfish, but they nod, and they watch in awe as Junmyeon builds his bubble to encapsulate all of them, to protect them. 

“Can you tell us anything about the creature?” Junmyeon asks. 

“It never comes out further than this,” one woman says. “It never passes the cliff.” 

“I think it’s dying,” a man says. “It doesn’t have enough strength.” 

“Smart, then,” Junmyeon smiles, “setting up here.” 

“We lost most of our supplies when it attacked,” a man tells them. “We’ve been living on nothing for… for days.” 

Kyungsoo steps forward, offering them his pack. “It isn’t a lot between everyone, but we have tablets from the Agency. Filling hunger suppressants that are packed with vitamins. Everything you’ll need until we can get you back to the Ninth Earth.” 

A crowd forms around him, and when he gives them his pack, the chorus of voice is eager, happy. 

“I’ll be stationed here,” Junmyeon offers, and he builds another bubble, this time massive, strong, incredible, and the people gasp and look to the sky as it surges to encapsulate all of them. “I’ll protect you while my other two agents take care of the problem.” He looks back at Sehun and Kyungsoo with a handsome, charming smile. “They’re some of the top agents we have to offer.” He looks back at the group, aiming the smile at them. “We’re in good hands, okay?” 

The hostages stare at Kyungsoo and Sehun, and Sehun stands up tall, tries to look as competent as he can. _Trust us,_ he thinks. _Let us do our job._

One woman towards the front, a small scar across her mouth, nods solemnly. And she looks around until everyone, from the youngest to the oldest, has nodded their assent. 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says. “We’ll be back. And in the case of an emergency…” 

“I have the call for transport,” Junmyeon says, and when one of them turns, questioning, he smiles at her. “But we don’t want to draw its attention prematurely. We have no idea what kind of things this creature is capable of. We want to keep you as safe as possible. Understood?” 

“All right,” the woman with the scar says. “Understood.” 

Sehun looks at Junmyeon, feels like he should be saying goodbye. It feels different from all the rest of the times, being stationed separately. He realizes, in the moment, that he hates it. 

“Get out of here,” Junmyeon smiles. “I got them.” 

Kyungsoo takes Sehun by the arm, and together, they walk out back from behind the rock. Kyungsoo takes the scanner from his pocket, and he holds it out in front of him, the little beams of blue light shooting out in front of them. It only takes a moment, and then, they have a perfect h-gram model of the planet, shining in the air. 

Quickly, they take a look at the layout, and Sehun points up towards the host. 

“All right, then,” Sehun says, and he drags his finger up, spinning the h-gram slowly. “You’ll come from the south?” 

“You from the north?” 

“And we’ll… we’ll try and trigger the cataclysm,” Sehun says. 

“Don’t get scared now,” Kyungsoo smiles. 

“I’m not scared.” 

“You look a little scared.” 

“Not much,” Sehun says. “Just a little.” 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo smiles. “Me too. Just a little.” 

They look off in opposite directions, left and right, and Sehun feels the fear snake up his legs. He doesn’t want to go. Not on his own. 

This is what he was made for, he reminds himself. This is his job. 

“Hey.” Sehun looks over, sees Kyungsoo staring at him with warm, deep eyes. _Trust him. Trust him._ “It’ll be okay, right?” 

“Yes,” Sehun says. 

“Then, no reason to be nervous,” Kyungsoo says, and he walks off, so far that Sehun can’t see him anymore. 

Sehun takes the opportunity to start moving in his direction, occasionally bringing up his map to see where Kyungsoo is. They work in opposite directions, and the further away from the cliff they move, the less he sees. The planet looks picked clean, and Sehun is only mildly comforted by the razorgrass brushing against the ankles of his jumpsuit. 

Kyungsoo is in his ear, but they don’t keep up conversation, don’t say anything until they’re in position. As soon as Sehun looks around, telling Kyungsoo that he’s ready to begin… that’s when he sees it. 

It is a haunting picture, the smoke slithering like a snake through the grass. The arm is long, thick, the size of him, and it creeps towards him slowly. 

“Soo,” Sehun says, voice rising in panic. “Soo, it’s…” 

“I see one too,” Kyungsoo says. “Ignition?” 

“Yeah.” He channels all the fire within himself, feels it built to a raging inferno. He feels the flames build behind his eyelids and when he aims his staff towards the rising smoke, he is momentarily overwhelmed by the heat, how it swallows them whole. 

The pale death catches like paper, immediate and deadly, and Sehun has barely a second to blink before he is blinded by the light, the fire spreading wildly, chasing the smoke back whence it came. Sehun opens his eyes once the worst is away from him, and he watches the little spit of red snake back until it is severed, the smoke gone. 

“H-Hey, I think it worked,” Sehun says. 

“Yeah, over here too,” Kyungsoo says, but he doesn’t sound nearly as jubilant as Sehun feels. “Let’s keep moving. There’s no telling how many arms we’ll need to do in order to trigger it.”

Sehun takes to a run, pulling up the map as he goes, trying to match Kyungsoo’s trajectory in search of the next limb. It does not take long for him to find it, and he builds the energy inside himself furiously, lets himself think of all the wildest things he can imagine before he unleashes another burst of fire from the head of his staff. 

He keeps his eyes open this time, watches as the smoke bursts into flame, crackling and spitting as it disintegrates right in front of him. It is strangely beautiful, the way the sparks fly. Sehun watches in awe as the fire chases the smoke away, and the only thing that distracts him from it is Kyungsoo’s voice. 

“Check your scan,” he says, and when Sehun does as he’s bade, he begins to count the limbs that still writhe over the planet’s surface. “You count three more for each of us?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, and he flips the scan around in a wobbling circle, finding no more to add to the docket. “Yeah, I do.” 

“Let’s get going, then.” 

Sehun feels like his journey is never ending, and whenever he encounters one of the limbs, he feels like the acidic air might eat through him. He stands there, staff aimed at the smoke, and he ignites the pale death with a spark, watching it dance through the air. He exhales roughly, and he can smell sulfur as the scrubber works overtime to clean his air for him. They countdown, three, two, and on the final journey, they are nearly back where they started, back nearest the cliff. 

“This is going too well,” Sehun says, and he picks up his pace to a jog. “Things never go this well.” 

“Stop,” Kyungsoo says, but Sehun can hear the smile. “You’re gonna put a hex on us accidentally.” 

Sehun feels a little bit of relief settle nicely under the surface of his skin, and when he sees the final limb, he notices how much more aggressively it moves towards him. Adrenaline thick and bubbling in his blood, Sehun unleashes his final ignition, watches as the limb desperately tries to escape from the sudden attack. He watches, eyes wide, as the fire eats the pale death. 

_Soon_ , he thinks, standing there. _Soon._

He stands there for what feels like forever, and he sees nothing. Feels nothing. 

“Soo?” he asks. 

“Come here,” Kyungsoo says. “Come back.” 

Sehun takes to a run, and he doesn’t ask for more information. Doesn’t feel like he needs it. He goes to Kyungsoo, and when he gets there, he sees Kyungsoo tapping at his bracer furiously. He looks up at Sehun with fear in his eyes, and it immediately puts Sehun back in the shit. 

“This isn’t good,” Kyungsoo says. “This isn’t good.” 

Suddenly, they feel movement. The movement of the earth underfoot. 

“What is that?” Sehun asks. “I-Is that the beginning? The cataclysm?” 

“I don’t think so,” Kyungsoo says. “No, I think… I think it’s settling in.” 

The limbs are dead. The limbs are dead, but he and Kyungsoo are not running from the cataclysm. They are not being attacked like they thought they would be. He looks around, confused, and he looks at Kyungsoo. 

“This isn’t working,” Kyungsoo says, panic evident in his eyes. “This isn’t working. Why isn’t it working?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says, “I… I thought it would work.” 

“There must be something,” Kyungsoo says. “Something we’re missing.” 

Sehun pulls up his map, looks at the growth, and _oh_ , he thinks. _That’s why it isn’t working._

“It looks like… it looks like it knew,” Sehun says. “It isn’t triggering the cataclysm because it’s… it’s preserving itself. It withdrew. It’s trying to draw us in closer.” 

“Junmyeon,” Kyungsoo says, hand on his earpiece. “We gotta switch.” 

“Huzzah,” Junmyeon cheers. “Let’s go.” 

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Sehun says, facing Kyungsoo. “You’re leaving?” 

“Priority number one should be the hostages,” Kyungsoo says. “When it comes to… when it comes to thinking on our feet and changing courses, I’m the weak link, and we all know it.” 

“S-So what?” Sehun says. “So… So you’re—”

“I’m gonna escort them back,” Kyungsoo says. “And I’m… I’m sorry.” 

Sehun swallows everything he wants to say. _Stay. Don’t leave us. This feels like you’re leaving. What if we die here? Will you carry on easily?_

“You’re doing your duty,” Sehun says, voice tight with emotion. “You shouldn’t apologize for that. It’s commendable.” 

“It doesn’t feel commendable when you look like that,” he smiles. 

“I just… _don’t wanna lose you_ ,” Sehun confesses. 

“You won’t lose me,” Kyungsoo says. “You’re gonna win. You’re gonna come back, and we’ll… we’ll have pepchocs together. Right?” 

Sehun blinks, tears in his eyes. “Right.” 

“This is very touching,” Junmyeon comments, a little slice through the moment. “Do you think the lifting of the hostages will draw the limbs out so far that—”

“Maybe we’ll get a chance at the host,” Sehun says. “Y-Yeah, that makes sense.” 

“Okay, let’s move,” Junmyeon says. “No time to waste.” 

They are quick to change positions, and the rescue ship is dispatched, zipping through the sky. Sehun watches the smoke rise to watch the movement. They funnel the wide-eyed hostages, thin and terrified, onto the ship, and Sehun watches Kyungsoo get on, watches him turn back like he’s vaguely regretful. 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon calls. Sehun whips around, sees the limbs twisting and shifting. “I don’t know, bud.” 

“He’s right,” Sehun says. “They have to get out.” 

“Yeah.” He stares at the smoke, pillars rising around them, snaking through the trees. “Yeah, and we do too.” 

“S-So what’s our plan?” Sehun asks. 

“The plan is we get as close as we can to the fucking host and see what it’s feasting on,” Junmyeon says. “And then… then we see what we can do about it.” 

Sehun watches as Kyungsoo mans the ship back to the Agency. They got them out alive. If nothing else, he helped with that. 

The pale smoke builds around them, wrapping limbs like an embrace, and Junmyeon throws up a quick bubble to protect them, almost like it doesn’t even matter. “We should move the ships with us,” Junmyeon says. “Quick escape if necessary, okay?” 

“Okay,” Sehun agrees, but the more the day goes on, the more he thinks he is not going to make it out alive. “Okay, yeah.” 

They move the ships easily as they walk right into the host’s trap, and when they finally happen upon it, the dense, overwhelming fog that seems to envelop them entirely, Sehun thinks they should go back. 

“What?” Junmyeon says, smiling. “Afraid of a little man-eating smoke disease?” 

“Shut up,” Sehun says, and he throws up a bubble of his own. 

“Getting really good at that,” Junmyeon comments, and the words sit red along the back of Sehun’s neck. 

“Focus.” 

“I’m focused, I’m focused.” 

“You don’t seem nearly as concerned as you should be.” 

“We got it,” Junmyeon says. “We’re almost at the end. I can see the light.” 

“Okay, great.” 

“No, like, literally,” Junmyeon says, and when he points off to the billowing smoke, it is glowing white and pale yellow, pulsing like a heartbeat. “Look at that. What do you think that means?” 

“W-What is that?” 

“Maybe i—”

But he doesn’t have time to finish his sentence because before he can manage it, the parasite explodes into a storm of ashen shards. Junmyeon throws his body over Sehun’s, the shimmering gold protective layer enough to keep them safe from the onslaught. Sehun looks up, dazed, and immediately realizes that this is not going to be as easy as they thought it was. Certainly not. 

The smoke is building around them, the pale death creeping forward to claim them, and Sehun breathes in, horrified. 

“We should move,” Junmyeon says. “Back to the cliff maybe.” 

“O-Okay,” Sehun says. “But should we… should we go check the host?” 

“You wanna do something that risky?” 

“Just to see… just to see what happened,” Sehun says. 

“All right. I got your back, but just for safety purposes, you should put up another bubble,” Junmyeon advises. 

Sehun follows his advice, and together, they move forward into the heart of death. The acid burns his nose, even with the scrubber working overtime to clean his air for him. He sniffs in to try and clear it, wiping mucus away with his fingers only to discover that it isn’t mucus. It’s blood. 

“We should really head back before it gets bad,” Junmyeon says, and when Sehun looks back at him, he is shuddering with effort, making sure his bubble stays strong overhead. “I’m… I’m getting tired. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.” 

Sehun revels in Junmyeon’s strength for a moment, letting it bolster his confidence as his own bubble strengthens. He steps forward towards the gaping maw left in the earth after the explosion where an endless channel of pale smoke pours from the hole. Sehun peeks over the massive edge, looks inside, and he sees bones falling to dust, smells rotten meat and acid. He holds back a retch, looks back at Junmyeon with his hand covering his nose and mouth. 

The host is gone. The parasite drained it for one last awful burst of energy. 

“We have to go,” Junmyeon says, almost as if he’s reached the same conclusion at the very same moment. 

They run, and they don’t look back. They both know. They both know that the protective spells can’t last forever. They have to think of something, and they have to think of something fast. 

They reach the cliff, and they hide behind it, back where they watched the hostages escape. Sehun thinks for a moment, thinks about Kyungsoo. Maybe he’ll come back. Maybe. 

“What are you doing just standing there?” Junmyeon asks, frenzied and frazzled. “We gotta think of something.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says, dazed. 

“W-Where’s your ship?” 

“What?” 

“Y-You didn’t bring your ship,” Junmyeon says, and he furrows his brow like he’s trying to make sense of it before turning around, showing Sehun his own, dragged behind him. “Why didn’t you bring it?” 

“I… I guess I just forgot it,” Sehun says. 

“You _forgot_ it,” Junmyeon says. “Sehun, what the—you know what, fuck it.” He turns, and together, they watch the pale death curve around the cliff’s edge. “Fuck. It’s… It’s moving. We have to do something. Send a spell.” 

“What spell?” 

“Any elemental,” Junmyeon says. “Hurry. Do it.” 

Sehun builds another ignition, letting as much of his passion and anger seep into it as he can manage. The fire spills from the head of his staff, and it sprays over the smoke. Sehun expects it to begin a crackling fire, but at most, all he gets is sparks. Sparks of white, yellow. 

“Fuck,” Junmyeon says. “ _Fuck._ ” 

“It worked,” Sehun says. “It worked before.” 

“It was… I don’t know, maybe it was building an immunity. Maybe it was using your spells like a fucking—” 

“Vaccine,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon bites his lip, and he looks up towards the sky, the ceiling of his bubble beginning to drip in gold. 

“Okay, okay,” he says. “I just have to think. I just have to focus. First. First things first. Shelter from the disease. Some… something like that. Second… Second, we formulate an offensive attack. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and he stands there dumbly as Junmyeon begins to lift rock from the earth, a stone structure that breathes with power. 

_How can he manage this?_ , Sehun wonders. _How can he still be so strong, so capable?_

He wanders to the edge of the bubble, and he becomes hyper focused on the way the smoke crawls and creeps up the wall. Within minutes, Sehun wagers, it will eat through the bubble. Will the wall be strong enough to hold it? It seems insatiably hungry now. It seems like it can eat through anything. 

He looks back to where Junmyeon is building his wall, and he is trembling, his whole body shaking as he struggles to do so many things at once. Sehun holds his staff between clenched fists, pushes and holds as his black sphere marries and melts with Junmyeon’s gold, gives them a few more precious seconds. 

It won’t last forever, he knows. They are prolonging the inevitable. 

_This_ , he thinks, _this is the moment that I can’t shy away from. This is why I felt so sick before I left. I knew I wouldn’t come back with him._

“Get on your ship,” Sehun says softly. 

Junmyeon turns, looks over his shoulder as the billowing white death eats away at the cliffside, the bubble dripping in around them. He is sweating from all the effort, and even now, Sehun thinks he looks beautiful. 

For some strange reason as he looks at Junmyeon, Sehun thinks of the birds. The birds from home. Their song was sad, and it was sweet. 

“What are you talking about? Come _help_ me,” Junmyeon says. 

“I’m gonna do this,” Sehun says. “I’m gonna end it myself. S-So go back to your ship. Go back to the Agency.” Junmyeon squints at him. “I’m serious.” 

“Shut up, what are you fucking saying?” 

“Get on the ship,” Sehun says. “I’m serious.” 

It dawns on Junmyeon then, Sehun thinks, judging by the way he throws his staff to the ground, by the way he steps forward, hands clutching nothing. The white smoke creeps in, and Junmyeon builds a smaller bubble around just the two of them to keep the death from swallowing them whole. It is a conservation of his energy, but it feels so sweet, being held closely by him. 

“What are you fucking doing?” Junmyeon asks, eyes full of wet terror. “Sehun, what are you—” 

“Get on the ship. Go home. I’m… I’m ready,” Sehun says. “I’m ready, it’s okay.” 

“You’re not fucking ready,” Junmyeon says, and he shakes his head. “You’re being insane, this… this isn’t the only way.” 

“I’ve thought about it. I think it’s the only way.” 

“It’s not. You’re wrong. There’s always another way.” 

Sweat drips down Sehun’s temple, and if he closes his eyes, it feels like Junmyeon’s touch on his face. He can almost transport himself now. Back to the closet. Lying on the metal table. Junmyeon on him. His mouth. Their kiss. 

“Sehun, stop,” Junmyeon says. “This isn’t—”

“Tell me that there’s another way, then,” Sehun says, and when he opens his eyes, tears fall down his face. “Tell me. If you’re so sure.” 

“Just let me think,” Junmyeon says, panicked. “Give me a fucking minute before you... have you even thought about this? Have you even given it a moment’s thought?” 

Sehun squeezes his eyes shut tight, lets the magic and the raw energy build within him, shining brightly. He can feel atoms within him colliding, fission and fusion and all the worst and best things in the world. Love and loss. Fire and what’s left after it burns out. He can almost hear them… the birds singing for him. 

“Stop,” Junmyeon commands, “stop, _stop_.” 

“Let me go,” Sehun says. “It’s time.” 

“It’s not time for this,” Junmyeon says, and he looks more desperate than Sehun has ever seen him. “Sehun, don’t.” 

His hair is red, his mouth is red, and Sehun closes his eyes. For some reason, in his mind’s eye, he sees Junmyeon’s hair dark. So dark. Black. Sehun tries to fix the image, tries to supplant it with reality. Junmyeon is beautiful and sweet, and what they share… it’s something like love. 

“We don’t have any other options,” Sehun says, and he holds Junmyeon by the shoulder, tries to tell him everything and more in a gaze. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” Junmyeon says. “It’s not, I—just wait, okay? Just wait.” 

“Look at us.” Together, they look through the bubble, at the rising white smoke. “We’re trapped. I’m gonna step out. I’m gonna take care of it. You keep the bubble up.” 

“No,” Junmyeon says. “No, not without you.” 

“It’s the only way,” Sehun says, and he leans in, mouth so close to Junmyeon’s. “You trust me, don’t you?” 

“Not like this.” 

“It’s gonna be okay. And you’ll always have me.” 

“Don’t do this,” Junmyeon says, and a tear falls down his face only for Sehun to brush it away with his thumb. “See, I’m… I’m distraught. Don’t do this. Don’t make me watch.” 

“I think I… I think I’m lucky I met you,” Sehun says, and all of his well-restrained zeal bursts forth. He lets the waves carry him. “I think I got really lucky.” 

“Sehun—” 

“I’ll see you again,” Sehun says, and he can feel the furious heat rising inside him, screaming through his pores. “I’ll see you again, I promise.” 

“Don’t go,” Junmyeon says. “I’ll do it.” 

“There’s two more,” Sehun says. “Work with him. Do it… do it for me, okay?” 

Junmyeon whimpers, and Sehun turns to escape into the blistering white air, but Junmyeon takes him by the wrist, spins him back around, and kisses him ferociously. Sehun has the blink of an eye to respond, to kiss Junmyeon back, to let the emotions well and storm within him. Relief and love and peace and… _oh_ , something better than anything else. 

Hope. 

Sehun shuts his eyes, and the world ends. Distantly, he can hear the screeching terror from the death, the smoke rupturing into blistering ash. The faraway sounds of horror and destruction. Burning. Chaos and flame. 

Truthfully, though, in those last moments, all he can hear are atoms bursting with energy. All he can see is light. All he can smell is fire. All he can feel is warmth, and all Sehun can taste is Junmyeon.  
  


♄

  
  
When he stirs, Junmyeon is sitting over him. He blinks wetly, eyes so full that he can barely see past the tears. He lies there in awed silence for a moment, and Junmyeon looks down at him with a relieved smile. This is the great after he once heard so much about. This is the place where you go if you’re good. _Good,_ Sehun thinks. _I tried so hard to be good._

“Are we dead?” Sehun asks, and he reaches out his hand to touch Junmyeon’s face. It feels real, but maybe the after is just as genuine, just as authentic as the present. “I don’t feel dead.” 

“No,” Junmyeon says, sleep evident in his eyes. “No, not dead yet.” 

“Oh,” Sehun says softly. “That’s good.” 

Junmyeon furrows his brow, collapses to Sehun’s body, and he lets out a gentle breath, one that seeps out slowly. “I didn’t know if you would wake up.” 

“What happened?” Sehun asks. 

“Energy burst,” Junmyeon says. “From, uh, from us.” 

“A-And the bubble fell?” 

“Yeah.” 

“What happened to the—”

“It was killed in the burst,” Junmyeon says. “Because… because of us. You sustained damage because you were… because you had your arms around me.” 

“That’s so cool,” Sehun says. 

“You’re high,” Junmyeon says, but Sehun can feel the smile against his neck. 

“I feel good,” Sehun says. “Really good.” 

“That’s good.” 

They lie there for a moment, and Sehun holds him closely, thinking about the beautiful fire that nearly devoured them. 

“When are we going back?” Sehun asks. 

“Whenever I can get a signal on my bracer,” Junmyeon says. “Thanks to your explosion—” 

“ _My_ explosion?” 

“ _Our_ explosion,” Junmyeon corrects, smiling, “our ships were destroyed. So until we’re issued replacements… just rest. I’ll wake you when it’s time to move, okay?” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, but a moment later, streaking through the sky on a tail of red, he sees the Agency’s emblem. “Hey.” 

“Time to move,” Junmyeon smiles. 

The ship lands just before them, blowing dust from the cratered earth into the air, and when the doors flutterfly open, Kyungsoo emerges with concern plain on his face. He all but runs to Sehun, taking him in his arms. 

“What happened?” Kyungsoo says, and immediately Sehun feels the wetness on his neck, _tears_ , actual tears. “What happened? I was monitoring the planet on the scan, and I saw the explosion, and I thought… Sehun, I thought—” 

“It’s okay,” Sehun says, a hand on the back of Kyungsoo’s neck as Kyungsoo squeezes them together. “It’s all right. Everything’s okay.” 

They stay there until the sky goes dark, and when they leave the planet behind, Sehun closes his eyes, tries to quiet his mind. He feels no pain. The journey back to Nirth leaves him asleep, resting, all of the energy gone from him for the moment.  
  


♄

  
  
He sits through another commendation meeting, the overjoyed voices of the directors. 

“For acts of bravery and self-sacrifice,” one of the wavelengths says, “we are honored to recommend you for your next grey level.” 

“Thank you,” Sehun says easily, the medicine still swimming in his head. “Thank you.” 

“Your service is appreciated,” another blue wavelength says, and Sehun tilts his head, staring at it, the shaky way it dances. 

“Thank you,” Sehun says blankly. 

Would it be better to return to a time when this was all he wanted? Was everything as simple as it seems in recollection? In the future, will this moment seem just as easy? 

He walks out of the meeting room to thunderous applause from his fellow agents, and with his head still light, he smiles and waves at them even though he doesn’t know if he really deserves the praise, the glory.  
  


♄

  
  
He gets the message on his bracer once he’s out of the shower, body and mind completely wiped clean. 

_Come talk_ , Junmyeon writes. _Today was fucky._

Sehun smiles down at it, and he wonders how he managed to escape yet again, not even from death but from himself. He zips his jumpsuit back up, and he walks over to Junmyeon’s door. 

_Here_ , he writes, and not a moment later, Junmyeon is standing at the open door, staring at him. 

For a moment, neither of them says anything, and they just stand there in silence, looking at each other. 

“How are you feeling?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Fine,” Sehun says. 

“Showered?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Did it make you feel better?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Yeah,” Sehun smiles. “Always does.” 

Junmyeon’s face goes strange and hard, and Sehun wonders if that was the wrong answer. Should he have said that it made him feel worse? 

“Listen, I can’t… I can’t just forget what happened today,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun can immediately tell that Junmyeon doesn’t feel the same kind of relief that Sehun feels. “I can’t just move on like that. I can’t just come in, get commendations, and then forget that you were ready to—” 

“It’s okay,” Sehun says. “If that’s what it took, then—”

“You were so ready,” Junmyeon whispers. “You were so ready to just give up.” 

“Sacrificing is not giving up.” 

“No,” Junmyeon says. “But that wasn’t pure, selfless sacrifice. There was so much self in that. That was suicide.” 

Sehun smiles, rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t like that.” 

Junmyeon sputters, and before Sehun knows it, he is being dragged across the threshold by the collar of his jumpsuit, the doors closing behind them. Junmyeon puts him against the surface, gets in Sehun’s face. 

“H-How are you doing this? How are you so nonchalant about this?” Junmyeon asks. “I could have lost you. I… I could have _lost_ you! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” 

“I was ready,” Sehun says. “It’s part of the job.” 

“This isn’t. Not this.” 

“I’m here,” Sehun says, and he takes Junmyeon’s hands in his, feeling a strange wash of calm. “You don’t have to worry.” 

Junmyeon makes a noise, though Sehun can’t say for certain whether it’s positive or negative, before he launches himself into Sehun’s embrace, breathing hard against Sehun’s neck. 

“Don’t fucking do that again, okay? I fucking mean it. No more of that shit. I’ll fucking kill you.” 

Sehun laughs, a huffing of breath. “Okay,” he says, and he holds his arms around Junmyeon carefully. 

They stand there for what feels like a small eternity, and Sehun can practically feel the oxytocin release in his head. Was this why they were thrust together? This bond that the Agency knew they would share? 

When Junmyeon pulls back, his eyes are watering as he stares at Sehun, face so serious that it scares Sehun. 

“Don’t _ever_ do something like that again,” Junmyeon says, and he holds Sehun by the back of the neck, pulls him in close, so close that Sehun can almost taste the words. “Do you hear me?” 

“I hear you,” Sehun whispers, and when Junmyeon kisses him, it is not a surprise, though it’s no less sweet because of it.  
  


♄

  
  
The next several days feel like a fever dream, and Sehun doesn’t know how to properly handle the emotions that swirl within him. All he knows is that Kyungsoo brings new information about the Swarm, and they jump right back into work. 

“It’s weakened,” Kyungsoo says. “The gravitational pull to the planet seems to have lessened considerably over the past several months and the orbits are all… messed up.” 

“You can say fucked,” Junmyeon says. 

“I’d rather not,” Kyungsoo says primly. 

“So then,” Junmyeon says, and he turns to Sehun, “would you like to offer an apology?” 

“An apology for what?” 

“For criticizing my strategy?” Junmyeon asks. 

“When did I do that?” 

“I don’t remember, but I do remember putting it in my dream journal.” 

“You have a dream journal?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“Where else would I keep all my secrets?” Junmyeon asks. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Kyungsoo says. “What’s important is that it’s worked. That we’ve… well, that we’ve done what we’re meant to do.” 

“Do you think this battle is gonna be easy?” Sehun asks. 

“No,” Kyungsoo says. “I don’t think that at all.” 

“Then, I guess we ought to get right down to it,” Junmyeon says. “No time for wining and dining.” 

Sehun looks over at him as Kyungsoo begins to draw up plans on the board, and when Junmyeon looks back at him, he sends Sehun a wink, making Sehun’s stomach flip over once, twice, three times before he can shove the feeling away.  
  


♄

  
  
It becomes a routine. Sehun has no choice but to think of it as Junmyeon seducing him, pulling him over to the dark side. 

He just doesn’t know how to stop it once it’s started. It feels like it’s awoken something within him, something like the reason people will hack the ent-options and access eros materials. It’s a need. Something base and distinctly human. Junmyeon teaches him things about himself that he would have never otherwise known. Junmyeon teaches Sehun to be free. 

Of course, that isn’t a good thing. He reminds himself of that at every turn. Junmyeon makes Sehun unlearn lessons. Junmyeon fills him up with dangerous things. Spikes and barbs and _what if we could run away from all this?_

Sehun is on the table, legs spread. He was cold, right at the very beginning, but now all he can feel is heat, simmering, bubbling heat. He is wet, Junmyeon made sure of that, and he gasps as he tries to bite down on some of the more shameful sounds that threaten to escape him. 

“What have I told you about that?” Junmyeon laughs, and he presses a kiss to the side of Sehun’s knee. 

“Not to do it,” Sehun smiles, and he bites his bottom lip between his teeth, his whole body going tense as Junmyeon slips another finger inside him. “P-Please, I—” 

“Please what, huh?” 

It is wonderful, delicious, and Sehun can barely remember what food tastes like when Junmyeon consumes him like this. Junmyeon makes Sehun forget everything but this. Everything but this sweetness. 

“Please, more,” Sehun whispers, embarrassed by how wanton he is, by how much he wants this. “Please, I…” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he mouths the words along the soft skin of Sehun’s thigh. “Yeah, I’ll give you whatever you want as long as you ask for it.” Sehun’s face goes warm and red, and he reaches up, shields himself with his hands. “No, you know how much I like watching you take it.” 

Sehun makes a noise, a weak, wounded sound as he lowers his hands. Junmyeon moves his free hand, and they entwine their fingers, Sehun holding on as if for dear life. He shuts his eyes, steels himself. 

“Please… f-fuck me,” Sehun says, and the thrill of obscenity zips through him, almost as arousing as the heat of Junmyeon’s body, the feeling of his touch, of his lips. His fingers laced with Sehun’s. “Please. I want it.” 

“Yeah?” Junmyeon asks. He squeezes Sehun’s hand in his own. “You want it?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun whispers. 

Junmyeon pushes his fingers into Sehun’s body as he looks into Sehun’s eyes, and Sehun wants to look away. Feels pinned by the stare. _This is too much. I’m feeling too much. I’m about to burst._

“You’re still tight,” Junmyeon says, “relax your body. Let me in.”

“I… I can’t, I don’t think—” 

“Don’t think what? Don’t think you can let me in?” Junmyeon smiles down at him, and he kisses Sehun’s thigh, scissors his fingers to make Sehun moan. “You’ve taken me before, haven’t you?” 

Sehun groans, his hips moving on their own accord as he desperately runs away from the pleasure, seeks more. He is contradiction after contradiction, one after another. 

“Relax,” Junmyeon says, coaxing Sehun’s body soft as he pets up and in, targeting the bundle of nerves that spiders pleasure through Sehun’s lower body. “Ah. I guess that doesn’t help, does it?” 

“N-No,” Sehun whispers, the tension thick in his veins. “No, not really.” 

“Am I mean?” Junmyeon asks, and he presses the pads of his fingers against Sehun’s prostate, the stimulation sharp enough to make Sehun shatter his way through a moan. “Am I torturing you?” 

“Yes.” 

“But you like the torture, don’t you?” Sehun looks into Junmyeon’s eyes, his body going pliant, obedient. “I never would have thought this would be how we ended up.” 

“H-How?” 

“You letting me do these things to you,” Junmyeon whispers, like his voice carrying will kill them both. “You… never mind.” 

Sehun sits up, his arms around Junmyeon’s neck. 

“No,” he says, his lips on Junmyeon’s ear. A kiss that he cannot control. “Tell me.” 

“After the first time, I didn’t think we’d ever do this again,” Junmyeon says, and he buries the words in Sehun’s neck. “This is all about trust. You trusting me enough to do this. You’ve never been so vulnerable. You’ve never let yourself unwind like this. I didn’t let myself think—” 

Sehun pulls back, quiets Junmyeon from saying another word, kissing him hard and fast. He drags Junmyeon flat, and Junmyeon slips inside him, a moan shared between them. _Shut up,_ he thinks. _Stop telling me what I’m doing. As long as you don’t say it out loud, it doesn’t have to be real._

They work against each other in terrible, wonderful ways, and Sehun loses a little bit of himself every time he comes back, every time he asks for this again. Junmyeon kisses him like the roof is going to come down over top of them, crush them underneath it. They embrace like the threats are imminent, like this is the last chance they’ll ever get to touch, to feel. 

“You feel so good,” Junmyeon praises, and he whispers it against Sehun’s ear. 

“P-Please,” Sehun moans. “Please, I—”

“You what?” 

“I need you,” Sehun says, brutally honest, ripped apart by it. “I need you so much.” 

“I’ll give you what you need,” Junmyeon says. “I promise.” 

Sehun feels like a different person now, and maybe that’s what Kyungsoo meant. Maybe Junmyeon is sculpting Sehun, shaping him with an expert hand. Sehun wouldn’t have even noticed, because he doesn’t care now. 

Junmyeon slides his fingers into Sehun’s body, and Sehun feels the world crashing down. Junmyeon is deft, lovely, and each time Sehun thinks he is about to come, Junmyeon backs away from it, tortures him with just a touch. Sehun whimpers even when he doesn’t think he should, moans even when he tries to stop himself. 

He is arching his back, trying to work his hips, and Junmyeon kisses him with a smile. 

“You’re being mean to me,” Sehun says. 

“No,” Junmyeon says, “I would never be mean.” 

“Now that just… isn’t true,” Sehun says, and his voice catches as he gasps. “S-Stop, you’re so…” 

“You need something more?” Junmyeon teases. “You could always ask for it.” 

Sehun feels the blush spread across his skin, filthy and good, and he closes his eyes instead of looking at Junmyeon. Doesn’t think he could say something like this so boldly, even if they’ve progressed to this stage. 

“Fuck me,” he whispers, and he hears Junmyeon smile. It is enough to make him open his eyes. “Please?” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. “Yeah, I will.” 

Each time it happens, Sehun thinks it should probably be the last, but each time, he wonders how he could ever walk away from a feeling so fucking delicious. Junmyeon slips inside his body, and over and over again, he gives himself to Junmyeon, tells him that he can do what he wants with him. 

He loses himself in the moments they spend together, the shame and doubt hidden away until they’re finished, until Junmyeon is finished pulling the pleasure from him. He tumbles over the edge before he even realizes what’s happening, before he can put a cap on it, but Junmyeon encourages him with sweet words, with a hand in his hair. 

Sehun blinks, and Junmyeon’s orgasm washes over him. It feels unbelievable, feels right, and he closes his eyes, wraps Junmyeon in his arms as he shudders, body tense and tight. 

They lie there for a moment or two more, and Junmyeon turns to him, a brow raised. It’s never a good thing in Sehun’s estimation, only leads to struggle.

“What?” Sehun says blankly. 

“Just looking at you.” 

“That is not your _just looking at me_ face,” Sehun says. “That is your _I’m going to ask you something very uncomfortable_ face. Isn’t it?” 

“Have you ever thought about topping?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Topping?” 

“Oh, you’re just so precious,” Junmyeon praises. 

“That’s not funny,” Sehun says. “Just because I don’t… know things.” 

“Doing me instead of me doing you,” Junmyeon says easily, and he trails a finger along the shadow of Sehun’s pectoral. A flood of heat pools in Sehun’s stomach, and his cock pulses weakly against his stomach. Junmyeon laughs. “I’ll take that as a _I’ll consider it._ ” 

“I just…” 

“You just?” 

“Hadn’t thought about it.” 

“I don’t really give you much time to think,” Junmyeon says. He stares down at Sehun’s body before gesturing broadly to it as if Sehun is a spread of food. “Can you blame me?” 

Sehun, much as he would like to scold Junmyeon, feels the same. Junmyeon’s body is covered with a thin sheen of sweat, the muscles of his abdomen cut to an absurd degree. He doesn’t know how he manages that, on top of everything else, but as he runs his fingers along the swells and grooves of the muscles, he realizes just how complicit he is in this. He wants just as much if not more than Junmyeon. 

They come to the closet, and they are on top of each other within an instant, no discussion other than the words that swarm in the throes of heat. Sehun looks at Junmyeon’s body, tries to imagine thrusting into him. Tight and warm and wet. Tries to imagine Junmyeon’s face as he holds himself up over him. Tries to imagine the sounds. He would start off so put together, wouldn’t he? And he would fall apart so prettily. 

“You’re thinking about it,” Junmyeon accuses. “Fucking me.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun admits. “I am.” 

“Good.” He leans in to kiss Sehun sweetly, but the nature of their conversation makes it feel much filthier. “I’ve been thinking about it since the first time.” 

“R-Really?” 

Junmyeon smiles, and he reaches down to take Sehun’s soft cock in his hand. “Come on. Who wouldn’t want this?” 

Sehun groans as Junmyeon touches him, as he imagines slipping into Junmyeon’s body, Junmyeon clinging to him and whimpering. 

“Next time, okay?” Junmyeon says. “I’m really looking forward to it so you better not disappoint.” 

It activates the base need to please. Junmyeon tells Sehun to jump, and in the next instant, before he can stop himself, Sehun finds himself bursting through the ceiling. 

“I won’t,” Sehun promises. “I won’t.”  
  


♄

  
  
Secrets are dangerous. Sehun knows this. Knows that, really, it isn’t a secret for people who would care to find out. There are cameras everywhere. Surveillance. They know what the agents are doing at all times. They know that this is happening. They are letting it happen. 

And so if the Agency is okay with it, Sehun thinks there’s no reason he shouldn’t let himself have it. Over, over, over again. He follows wherever Junmyeon takes him, right up to the edge, and together, they fall off. 

Junmyeon brings Sehun to his room, and it looks so lived in, so homey. Distantly, his stomach tightens with yearning, a strange desire to belong to a place that looks like this. He doesn’t belong, feels distinctly out of place, but he forgets about it quickly as Junmyeon pushes him against the door, a leg splitting Sehun’s thighs. Sehun lets himself be taken in a kiss, just as beautiful, just as scorching as all the rest. He holds Junmyeon’s face in his hands as he moans out his appreciation. 

Junmyeon is excellent with his tongue, knows exactly how to kiss Sehun to make him sweat, to make the arousal roil. Sehun curls his back, posture terrible as he tries to make himself small enough to meet Junmyeon on an even level. They trade sounds, wet noises echoing as they push against each other, grind through facade into something real, something beautiful, something vulnerable. 

But this isn’t about him. It is about Junmyeon. About pushing inside him, about making him come. About taking everything he wants, everything he’s always wanted and never been allowed to admit. He straightens his back, makes Junmyeon go up on his tiptoes to meet him, arching and stretching. Sehun kisses him like he’s trying to keep him forever and maybe he is. Maybe that’s always what they’ve been about. Keeping each other. Staying in each other’s orbit. 

They strip each other slowly, quietly, and it is almost reverent, has lost all of its playfulness somewhere along the way. It feels deadly serious, and Sehun’s mouth is dry when he kisses down Junmyeon’s cheek, kissing and sucking at the hollow of Junmyeon’s throat. Junmyeon winds his arms around Sehun’s neck as he pulls him away from the wall of the cabin, in nothing but their underwear and bracers. 

“Take it off,” Junmyeon says, and he kisses the words into Sehun’s mouth, fingers playing at the slick metal and glass. “For me?” 

They’re not supposed to. They’re not supposed to ever take off the bracer. 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and he lets Junmyeon get his fingers underneath it, popping it away from his body. He feels especially naked then, rubbing at his wrist. “A-Are you gonna take yours off?” 

“For you?” Junmyeon smiles. “For you, Sehun, anything.” 

The bracer pops off easily, looks a little like a cuff being unshackled, and Junmyeon takes both of their bracers, puts them next to his bed. 

“I didn’t think we’d ever do this again,” Junmyeon says. “After the first time.” 

“You always say that. Why would you think that?” 

“Spur of the moment,” Junmyeon says, and he gets in close next to Sehun, mouth at Sehun’s neck. He kisses wetly, makes Sehun shut his eyes. “Some kind of… I don’t know. Some kind of bullet moment.” 

“Bullet moment?” 

“Bullets are shot, and they don’t come back,” Junmyeon says, and his lips press chastely against Sehun’s throat. “So… you have nothing to lose. Tomorrow never comes. I think that’s how you thought before our deployment because in your bullet moment, you’re really free.” 

Sehun can’t say whether it’s because of the words or the feeling of Junmyeon’s mouth on his skin, but his throat goes uncomfortably tight. 

“Have you ever had a bullet moment?” Sehun asks. 

Junmyeon hugs Sehun, lays his head on Sehun’s chest. “I’m always living in my bullet moment.” 

Sehun swallows thickly, tightens his arms around Junmyeon’s body like he can hold them both together, gluing together the splintering parts. 

“So… in this bullet moment,” Sehun says, and he rubs the pads of his fingers into the muscle lining Junmyeon’s shoulders, “what do you want?” 

Junmyeon looks up into his eyes, the heat between them making Sehun’s vision wave. “I want you. Sometimes that’s… all I want. Sometimes you’re all I can think about.” 

Sehun puts his hand on the back of Junmyeon as he drags him into a furious kiss that tastes like heartbeats and dreams. 

They lie on Junmyeon’s bed, and he holds his weight off Junmyeon until he pulls Sehun down on top of him, their bodies making a sweet, tight line. Sehun kisses him hard, moans into his mouth as they slowly pull each other down to nothing, their bodies bare. Junmyeon slaps a hand over to his bedside table, giving Sehun the lube. 

“Come on,” he says, and when Sehun stares at his mouth, it is red, bitten, well-kissed. “Please?” 

Sehun finds it hard to deny him anything, especially when he looks like that, sounds like that. Ten kinds of wrecked. He reaches between their bodies, strokes wetly along Junmyeon’s cock. 

“That’s not what we’re here for,” Junmyeon smiles, and he surges up, takes Sehun’s bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before lying back down. “Lower.” 

Sehun is sure that his breath is ragged, useless as he gets up onto his knees. Junmyeon’s body is art, electricity, and sound, and Sehun slicks his fingers along Junmyeon’s hole, watches for the way he closes his eyes and sucks in a breath. 

“Good,” Junmyeon says. “Just… touch for a minute. Slowly. How I do it to you.” 

Sehun feels a little relieved that Junmyeon is coaching him, because for as often as they’ve been here, he’s never been the one pushing into Junmyeon. Never been the one in control. 

He strokes the pad of his finger against Junmyeon, slick and warm, and Junmyeon moans softly, eyes shut. 

“That’s good,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun ups the pressure just a touch, making Junmyeon groan. “Really good.” 

Sehun strokes along Junmyeon until the tension falls away, until he can push the tip of his finger inside with no resistance at all. Still, it shocks a sound out of Junmyeon’s mouth. 

“Fuck. I-It’s been a while.” 

“How long?” Sehun asks, and he pushes his finger in just a bit further before he realizes what he’s doing, how possessive the question came out. “S-Sorry, you don’t have to—”

“Before the retest,” Junmyeon says. “Before I met you.” 

It puts a bolt of affection in Sehun’s chest, and he pushes the finger deeper inside Junmyeon’s body, fucks it in and out until Junmyeon looks comfortable with it. He doesn’t say what he should say, what he means to say, but he slips another slick finger into Junmyeon’s body, pressing up and in the way Junmyeon always does. He feels for the prostate, rubs a little circle against it before withdrawing his touch, and Junmyeon curses, high in his throat. 

“That’s good,” Junmyeon coaches, but the edges of him are fraying, coming apart at the seam. “That’s so good, fuck, that’s good.” 

Sehun repeats the action until it is predictable, until Junmyeon swells and hardens under the touch. It is intensely gratifying, he finds, to bring Junmyeon pleasure this way, and he loses himself in it, the usefulness. 

Junmyeon drags his legs up the bed, dragging his heels into the sheets as Sehun thrusts his fingers inside. Sehun reaches up with his free hand, circles it around the head of Junmyeon’s cock, and slides it down to the base. Junmyeon groans, noisy enough to rattle in his chest. 

“S-Stop, that’s a little too good,” Junmyeon laughs. “Who taught you how to do that, huh?” 

“You,” Sehun answers honestly. 

It is apparently the correct thing to say, because a bead of pre-come leaks from the head of Junmyeon’s cock. Sehun circles his palm over the head of Junmyeon’s cock, smoothes it down the shaft, and Junmyeon laughs a little more hysterically this time. 

“S-Sehun,” he says, “come on.” 

“I want to make you feel good,” Sehun says. 

“And you are doing a bang up job.” 

Pride surges within him. “Then let me keep going.” 

Junmyeon angles his head up, stares at Sehun’s cock between his legs before flicking his eyes up to look into Sehun’s. “Have you forgotten the whole reason we’re here?” 

“No,” Sehun says. 

“Then, come on,” Junmyeon says, and he reaches forward, takes Sehun’s cock in his hand before giving it a slick stroke. “Do what you said you were gonna do.” 

“I should… I should touch you more,” Sehun says. 

“I know what I need.” He twists his wrist wickedly, and Sehun chokes out a surprised moan. “I need this.” 

Sehun finds it hard to argue. It’s not like he hasn’t been thinking about this since Junmyeon mentioned it. It’s not like he hasn’t been daydreaming about slipping into Junmyeon’s body, giving back all the pleasure he’s received. 

“Okay,” Sehun says. 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay.” 

Junmyeon smiles, and he takes Sehun’s shoulders in his hands, pulling him down into a kiss. Each moment is more fevered than the last, and Sehun gasps when their bodies touch, when Junmyeon moans against him. 

They move against each other with fervor, with passion, with the type of energy that could put a planet on fire. 

He positions the head of his cock, holds himself with a hand. He slicks himself along where the lube has leaked out, and it makes the both of them shiver. 

“Come on,” Junmyeon says, and he looks up at Sehun with the sweetest eyes, the most beautiful look Sehun’s ever seen. 

Sehun pushes himself inside, and he is immediately overwhelmed by the heat of Junmyeon’s body. He sucks in a frantic breath, stares down at Junmyeon in wide-eyed panic.

“It’s okay,” Junmyeon says, “just breathe.” 

“How do you do this?” Sehun asks. “I-I’m gonna come.” 

“No, you’re not,” Junmyeon tells him. “It’s your first time. Everyone feels like that.”

“I’m gonna…, oh, I’m—,” and he squints, curling his toes in a desperate attempt to get some control back into his system to balance out all the shuddering arousal. “F-Fuck. Fuck, you feel—” 

“Don’t talk, don’t think,” Junmyeon says, “it’ll only make it harder. Just be quiet and breathe.” 

Sehun bites his lip, and the little split of pain makes it easier to ground himself. Junmyeon is tight, wet, and warm, and Sehun reminds himself to put those words out of his head. He isn’t going to come. He isn’t going to embarrass himself like this, he tells himself. _Junmyeon would never let me live it down._

Slowly the tension falls away, and Junmyeon purrs out a sound, a hand snaking down Sehun’s back. “There you go. See? Not so bad.” 

Sehun scoffs, and Junmyeon laughs, his body tightening around Sehun. He chokes out another sound, and Junmyeon snorts. 

“Don’t give me so much to work with,” Junmyeon says. 

“I’m trying not to,” Sehun says, and he lays himself flat on Junmyeon, gets his arms around Junmyeon’s body, hugging him close. “Just give me a second.” 

“It’s usually the other way around,” Junmyeon says. 

“You didn’t properly elucidate how this would feel.” 

“It’s very hard to elucidate anything when I’m balls deep in you,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun can hear his smile as he threads his fingers through Sehun’s hair. “Take however long you need.” 

It is kind, but it is also teasing, so Sehun bites his lip and rocks his hips out. When he pushes back in, it makes Junmyeon moan softly into his ear, and he decides to chase that with everything that he has. 

“F-Fuck,” Junmyeon says, “it’s been a while.” 

“Does it feel like you remember it?” Sehun asks. 

“Better.” 

It sends a delicious thrill up Sehun’s spine, lustful with satisfied jealousy. He rocks his hips out again, in again, and it feels even better than the time before, Junmyeon clinging to him eagerly. 

“You…,” Junmyeon starts, but he never finishes, fingernails clawing at Sehun’s upper back as Sehun fucks him. 

Sehun hears a rhythm in his head, and he works his hips to it, focusing on the sound of the pulsing heartbeat in his ears. It helps keep him away from the edge, helps keep him from focusing too much on the vice-like grip around his cock, the slick sounds of their bodies, the way Junmyeon moans like Sehun’s cock fucking him is all he wants from the universe. 

He squeezes his eyes shut tight as he fucks in and in and in, the dizzying warmth of Junmyeon’s body enough to make Sehun light-headed. He bites his lip before kissing Junmyeon, hips working to the rhythm as they moan into each other’s mouths. It is a misstep, a terrible misstep, because the feeling makes Sehun’s stomach gather heat like nothing else, and he gasps sharply as he pulls back, biting his lip so hard he thinks he might draw blood. 

“Hey,” Junmyeon says breathlessly, forehead already brimmed with sweat, his cheeks pink and happy. “Can we try something?” 

“L-Like what?” 

“Pull out,” Junmyeon says. 

Sehun is quick to obey, scrambling off Junmyeon’s body even though it is the hardest thing to do at the moment. He was so close to coming, and with a few more fervent, hectic thrusts of his hips, he thinks he would have been spilling into Junmyeon’s body. 

He’s got no time to mourn because once Junmyeon has enough room on the bed, he is turning over, the swell of his ass, the slim of his waist alluring even in the dim lighting. 

“Wanna try it like this?” he asks, and he reaches between his legs, and Sehun watches him absently play with his hole like a true tease. “Would this be okay?” 

Sehun doesn’t say anything, just takes Junmyeon by the hips and drags him back until Sehun is rubbing against him, hot and slick. Junmyeon moans, pushing back against it as he rests on his elbows. Sehun brushes the sweat away from his brow before he takes his cock in his hand, slaps it wetly against Junmyeon’s hole. 

It shocks a sound out of Junmyeon, a surprised, happy sound, and Sehun takes that, runs with it. He pushes the head of his cock back inside, gritting his teeth when he is struck again by how tight Junmyeon is, how luxurious it is to play inside that warmth. 

“Fuck me,” Junmyeon whispers, “come on. Fuck me.” 

Sehun needs no further direction, thrusting in, pumping his hips as Junmyeon tangles his hands in the sheets. Sehun watches sweat drip down Junmyeon’s spine, watches as the slap of their skin makes Junmyeon’s ripple pleasantly. Sehun puts his hand on Junmyeon’s ass, slides it down to the small of his back, thrusts, and he moans softly, trying to keep himself quiet as he listens for the noises Junmyeon makes. 

It is like a dust storm, the heat dry and heavy, and he licks his lips as he tries to get some control back from his own body, tries to quiet his mind so he can keep himself focused. _This is about Junmyeon_ , he reminds himself. _This is about making him feel like he made me feel all those times._

“Sehun,” Junmyeon says, and it grounds him in this reality, in this moment. “Sehun, I—” 

He can’t think of anything besides kissing Junmyeon, not letting him finish whatever he was going to say. Surely it would be too much. Surely it would drive him over the edge. Junmyeon breathes this, exhales moments of intense and beautiful pleasure, and Sehun is so weak for it. He can’t believe he’s just admitting it to himself now. 

He pulls Junmyeon up, and he drives his hips in and in as he holds Junmyeon up off the bed. Junmyeon looks over his shoulder, brows knitted together as if his head is fogged, and he stares at Sehun’s mouth for a second, then a second more. 

Junmyeon kisses him with reckless abandon, hands in Sehun’s hair, pulling from the root. It makes Sehun make a soft noise of pain echo in Junmyeon’s mouth, but that pain, sharp and bright, only drives Sehun forward, only drives him closer to the edge. 

“Stop, stop,” Junmyeon mutters, and Sehun pulls back, looking into Junmyeon’s eyes. 

“What?” 

He disengages from Sehun, flips back over and spreads his legs wide. He beckons Sehun back to him, and Sehun wonders how this person can be real. Sehun slides back into Junmyeon’s body, and it punches a moan out of both of them. 

He is lying there, hair splayed out beautifully along the pillow. His cheeks are warm and pink, and Sehun resists the near overwhelming urge to press a couple kisses to them. He is handsome, stupidly handsome, and Sehun thinks he loves him. Thinks he loves him for real. 

“I-I want you to come,” Sehun says. 

“Make me come, then,” Junmyeon says, and he nods towards where they are connected. “Get on your knees.” Sehun obeys him, gets up onto his knees as Junmyeon kicks a leg over Sehun’s shoulder. He takes Sehun’s hand, directs it towards Junmyeon’s thigh. “One hand to hold me here.” He takes Sehun’s other hand, puts it on Junmyeon’s cock. “One hand here.” 

“Okay.” 

“Fuck me,” Junmyeon says. “And make me come.” 

Sehun’s never wanted anything more in his entire life, and he’s always been so motivated by goals. He thrusts his hips to a steady, certain rhythm, one he knows he can keep up without much exhaustion. He holds Junmyeon’s leg up over his shoulder with his left hand, starts to slowly jerk Junmyeon off with his right. 

Junmyeon immediately thrashes to the side, burying his face in the pillow as he moans sharply. 

“Does it feel good?” Sehun asks, and he runs the palm of his hand over the head of Junmyeon’s cock. 

“Fuck, yes,” Junmyeon says, and even the line of his throat is alluring, makes Sehun want to lean down and kiss it, bite marks into the unmarred surface. “Harder, please.” 

Sehun doubles his efforts, makes Junmyeon cry out as he strokes him hard and fast. He watches Junmyeon’s breathing go shallow and syncopated, watches the blush drip down onto his chest. 

It feels like a gift when he gets to watch Junmyeon spill over his stomach, hands tangled in the sheets as his hips move. It looks like worlds ending, looks like the best night of their lives. Sehun can barely hold it together when Junmyeon tightens around him, when the tension reaches its breaking point. 

“Come inside me,” Junmyeon says. “Come inside me, please.” 

He didn’t need much encouragement, he doesn’t think, because the words, the feelings, it all combines inside him and bursts out. He squeezes his eyes shut, hips stuttering as he comes deep inside Junmyeon’s body. It’s almost painful, the way the orgasm drains him of everything besides pleasure for so long. It feels endless, feels torrential, and he tightens his grip on Junmyeon’s hips so hard that he thinks he’ll leave bruises. 

When it ends, trailing off into tendrils of tickling heat, he breathes out, collapsing down onto Junmyeon, his chest to Junmyeon’s back. They don’t say anything for a while, and Sehun takes the moment of quiet to collect himself, to sink back into his body after an orgasm that felt like he was soaring out of it. 

Junmyeon is the one to break the silence, and the predictability of that alone makes Sehun feel at home. 

“Was it good?” he asks, slyly, reaching a hand around to hold Sehun by the back of the thigh. 

“Shut up,” Sehun says. 

“Shame the shower units only hold one person,” Junmyeon says softly. “I’d invite you into mine.” 

The thought of their bodies gliding along each other in the hot water makes the vestiges of warmth seep out of him, another weak little pulse from his cock, and Junmyeon moans happily. 

“I should get in there soon,” Junmyeon says. “After you pull out.” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, but he makes no effort to detach himself from Junmyeon, none whatsoever. 

“You’re gonna get soft soon,” Junmyeon laughs, but Sehun waits another moment or two before slowly withdrawing, the pair of them sharing a whimpering duet. 

Sehun flops onto Junmyeon’s bed, stares at him as he gets up. 

“I’ll be back in a minute or two,” Junmyeon says. “You can get next, okay?” 

“Okay,” Sehun says. “Sorry for…” 

“For what?” Sehun gestures to Junmyeon’s body. “I did ask for it.” 

“It’s not easy to clean up, though,” Sehun says, a flood of hot shame sitting high on his cheeks. 

“Sounds so slutty when you put it like that,” Junmyeon says, and he reaches between his legs, plays again with his hole like he’s trying to kill Sehun. 

“W-What’s _slutty_ mean?” 

“I always forget how sheltered you chose to be,” Junmyeon says, and he turns back to the shower. “I’ll be out in a minute, okay?” 

“Sure,” Sehun says, and just like that, Junmyeon leaves him to ponder what they’ve just done, the line they’ve just crossed. 

He stares at the ceiling, afraid that he’s gone too far now, and he lets himself drip into the terror. It comes and goes when he thinks of Junmyeon, about _being_ with Junmyeon, but he’s never done something like this. Never done something so… vulnerable. 

Sehun looks to the side, to the table by Junmyeon’s bed. He sees their bracers there, lying next to each other, and for a moment, he cannot tell his apart from Junmyeon’s. The fear grips him hard and strong, and he furiously stretches out to grab his own from the table. He slaps it on his wrist, tightens it, and immediately, he feels himself relax. He doesn’t know what kind of trouble he’d get into if someone found out he’d taken it off. 

Junmyeon emerges from the shower unit a moment later, and he looks refreshed, but his cheeks are still pink, perfect. 

“Why do you look like you’re about to throw up?” Junmyeon asks with a laugh. “Was it that bad?” 

His eyes scan, though, and within another couple seconds, he realizes what Sehun’s done. He narrows his expression just a little bit, imperceptible to anyone but Sehun. He walks over, sits with his back facing Sehun as he fixes his own bracer onto his wrist, and he clears his throat. 

“Shower’s open,” he says. 

Sehun takes the out when he’s given it, and he walks over to the unit to let it scrub him clean. It only takes a minute or two, but he takes the opportunity to scrub his brain clean too, not think about anything besides the sensation of the shower, the rainfall of water rinsing away everything else. 

He exits the stall after a quick dry, and Junmyeon is lying on the bed, facing the near wall. 

“Should I leave?” Sehun asks. 

“No,” Junmyeon says immediately. “Stay.” 

Sehun bites his lip, trying to decide what the best course of action is. He shouldn’t have even asked. He should have just walked right out without giving Junmyeon a choice, but now he’s stuck here. He’s put himself in the cage.

He lies down on the bed next to Junmyeon, and for several minutes, neither of them say anything. It is uncomfortable, those few minutes, and Sehun regrets staying, regrets it intensely. 

He stares at the wall, and he wonders what to say. _I’m sorry things change so fast. I’m sorry I can’t lose myself the way you do. I’m sorry I’m like this. I’m sorry I don’t trust you enough. I’m sorry I never will._

“Hey,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun immediately rolls over to face him. 

“What?” 

Junmyeon stares at him for several long seconds, drawing it out like he’s looking for something. Scanning. Sehun holds himself still. _Look all you want. I’ve got nothing to hide._

“Just… wanted to look at you,” Junmyeon says. 

Just like that, all the tension is broken, all the discomfort lost to time. Time Sehun can’t even remember now. 

Sehun rolls his eyes, and when Junmyeon grins, turns over, Sehun fits himself along Junmyeon’s back, curling into the crevices, listening for the sound of satisfaction that comes just as sure as the morning, the dawning of the circling stars.  
  


♄

  
  
He knows they shouldn’t be doing this, and yet he keeps coming back to it. Keeps coming back to Junmyeon. 

Junmyeon lies on the bed, and Sehun stares down at him in awe for a moment as he collects himself, only belatedly realizing that his hand has fallen to his underwear, absently stroking himself through the fabric. 

“You’re so honest now,” Junmyeon says. “You tell me what you want before you even know yourself.” 

Sehun makes a broken kind of sound, and it comes from the back of his throat. He gets onto the bed, lays his body along Junmyeon’s, and he kisses him hard, with as much passion as he can. It fills him up, builds and builds within him. Thundering waves of lightning, the push of rain and wind. Sehun kisses him, kisses him, loves him so much that he can’t stop himself from moving against him, wet and sticky. 

His hands are shaking by the time he gets up onto his knees, Junmyeon’s body laid out before him. He takes his cock in his hand, strokes it wetly as he looks at Junmyeon. 

“Are you gonna do it?” Junmyeon taunts, and he circles Sehun’s body with his legs, heels against the small of Sehun’s back until he is forced to get as close as possible. “Or are you just gonna stare at me?” 

“I-I’m gonna do it,” Sehun says. “Just give me a minute.” 

“This is a very rare occasion, after all.” Sehun scowls down at Junmyeon who shines as he lies there. “What? I’m being nice.” 

“You’re torturing me,” Sehun says. 

“Look at what I’m letting you have,” Junmyeon says, and he takes one of Sehun’s hands in his and draws it between his legs. He is slick and warm, and he wraps his hand around Sehun’s wrist until Sehun pushes a finger inside, making Junmyeon’s eyes shudder closed. “Fuck.” 

Sehun presses it deeper, revels in this power. He pushes in and up, and he watches Junmyeon’s chest collapse with labored breath. Everything feels sticky, and Sehun licks his lips as he plunges another finger in just to see the way Junmyeon reacts. Sehun curls his fingers, pets along the nerves until Junmyeon’s legs drop from around Sehun’s body, until his grip around Sehun’s wrist is so tight that Sehun thinks he might lose feeling. 

“H-Have you been paying attention this whole time?” Junmyeon smiles wryly until Sehun rubs an insistent circle at his prostate, squeezing his eyes shut tight, finally releasing Sehun from his hold as he grips the table underneath him instead. 

“Studying,” Sehun says, and he makes Junmyeon fall apart on the tabletop, pleasure leaking out of every moan, every gasp. 

“I’m fine,” Junmyeon says, like Sehun’s only trying to prepare him, like this isn’t entirely about Junmyeon’s pleasure. “Sehun, please, I—” 

Sehun doesn’t cut him off, and Junmyeon doesn’t fall silent either, but he _is_ swallowed up by his own sounds of gratification. Intent on giving Junmyeon everything Junmyeon’s been giving him, he focuses on pulling every little drop from Junmyeon. He slides a wet fist down Junmyeon’s cock as he strokes his fingers inside Junmyeon’s body, and he is rewarded with a noise he’s never heard Junmyeon make before, high-pitched and desperate. 

“Stop,” Junmyeon moans, “stop, stop.” 

Sehun immediately stills his hands, stares down at Junmyeon. “Is it bad? Does it hurt?” 

“I’m gonna come,” Junmyeon says, and he shakes as he laughs, moans softly as his body moves in Sehun’s hands. 

“Isn’t that the point?” Sehun asks. 

“It might be _your_ point, but it isn’t mine.” 

Sehun smiles, and he withdraws his touch from Junmyeon entirely, leaving Junmyeon shuddering, clenching around nothing. He lays his body down, kisses Junmyeon slowly, lazily as if they have eternities to spend with each other in this liminal space. He tastes all Junmyeon’s pleasure, still fresh on his tongue, and it makes him thrust his hips, his cock grinding against Junmyeon’s. 

“Then, can I have my point before you have yours?” Sehun whispers, and he kisses the side of Junmyeon’s face, down his neck. “Please?”

Junmyeon groans softly as Sehun works his hips, angry in that playful way that Sehun loves. _How do you like it, now that it’s you on that side?_

“Fine,” Junmyeon says, “but don’t be surprised if I’m too sensitive for you to actually fuck me after.” 

“That’s okay,” Sehun says, pushing up and resettling himself on his knees.“We’ve got time, don’t we?” 

Junmyeon stares up at him in awe, and Sehun wonders if he looks the same way that Junmyeon looked the first time: drenched in that halo of light. Does he look as beautiful as Junmyeon did? Just as tempting? 

“Come on,” Junmyeon smiles. “Just because we have time doesn’t mean we should waste it.” 

Sehun slips his fingers back into Junmyeon’s body, and even more than before, the heat and tension are tempting. He could be pushing inside Junmyeon at this very moment. He could be slipping in, letting the warmth and heat envelop him, letting it eat him alive. For a second, he derides himself. Who could possibly deny themselves something like this, spread out like indulgences? 

But when he makes Junmyeon come with nothing but his fingers, he watches so many parts of him fall apart in ways he’s never seen before. Sehun’s always been so focused on his own pleasure, so dizzied by it, he’s rarely had such a clear-headed opportunity to see the look on Junmyeon’s face, the heat in his eyes. It is like music and art, this effulgent collapse. Junmyeon’s body tenses and shakes, and the sounds he makes… almost like it is a terrible burden to feel so fucking good. He watches with his mouth hanging open stupidly, his stomach twisting and turning as he is helpless but to commit the moment to memory, burned into his mind like a laserbrand. 

“Fuck,” Junmyeon says, and he blinks away tears, one slipping down the side of his face as he struggles back to the surface, smiling like he’s never been so happy. “T-That… that was something.” 

“Good?” 

“Shut up,” Junmyeon says. “Don’t ask for praise when you’ve done well. You don’t have any need for it.” 

Sehun smiles as he lies next to Junmyeon’s body, an arm slung across his waist as the breathing, the heartbeat evens. 

It is a quiet moment, and they look at the halogen lights together. Sehun’s eyes go fuzzy enough he can pretend they are dense constellations, straight lines blurring into one as he shuts his eyes, his head resting against Junmyeon’s. 

“I really like you,” Junmyeon whispers. “You know that, right?”

It shouldn’t feel like a confession even though it is one. Sehun knows that Junmyeon likes him. _Loves him_. He knows that they are, objectively, on the same page regarding their involvement. But this isn’t something that goes beyond the dorm, beyond the closet. This isn’t something that follows them. It _can’t_ be, no matter how much Sehun might want it to be. 

“Say something,” Junmyeon whispers, and when Sehun turns to look at him, he is still looking at the halogen lights. 

“I… how are you feeling?” Sehun asks. 

That gets Junmyeon to look at him, gets him to turn. Junmyeon wipes the side of his face, the tears long dry. 

“Good,” Junmyeon answers. “Do you want to—?” 

Sehun doesn’t say another word, lets his body speak for him. _You have to know how I feel_ , he thinks as he splits Junmyeon’s legs with his hands. _You must know that I love you with every fiber of my being_ , Sehun thinks, and he uses Junmyeon’s come, sticky and sweet, to slick his cock. _You know, but you want me to say it_ , Sehun says to himself, and when he pushes inside the clutch of Junmyeon’s body, he shudders, his whole body shaking. 

It is too good, too much, and he squeezes his eyes shut so tightly that he sees the universe and universes beyond them. 

Junmyeon tightens rhythmically around Sehun, almost like he doesn’t want to let Sehun pull out even for a second, not even long enough to thrust himself back in. _Don’t leave,_ Junmyeon’s body is saying, and with all of his heart, Sehun wants to be able to say _I won’t_.

It is a furious, deep, burning pleasure that surges through his body, and he curls himself around Junmyeon, a hand tight on his hip as sweat drips off of him and onto Junmyeon. He moans as he thinks, as he feels, as he hears the sounds their bodies make, drenched in the ugly light, and still so beautiful. 

“I love you,” Junmyeon whispers, and maybe he says it quietly because he thinks Sehun’s asleep. Maybe he’s letting Sehun pretend like he doesn’t already know. 

_No_ , Sehun thinks. _Junmyeon wants me to know. He wants me to make up my mind. Love him or leave. Take it or run._


	7. Chapter 7

The planet is called Vimolod. 

The jungle is thick. The camera swings through the treetops, the leaves circular and webbed, and together, the three of them study the atmosphere, the flora, and the fauna. 

It is beautiful, and Sehun holds his breath as he watches the surveillance footage as if it was a nature doc. Everything looks foreign to Sehun’s eyes, yet no less lovely because of that. He smiles when he sees a cloud of birds streaking through the trees. Sehun follows them with his eyes, mesmerized, but when the camera angles down, he sees the growth. The Swarm. 

Like rushrooms growing from the soil, the Swarm spreads and breathes, sentient and smart. They are small growths, brown in color, but the domed tops of them are littered with pinholes. Sehun feels a little bolt of discomfort run along his spine like electricity, and he has to look away before it goes away. 

“Gross,” Junmyeon comments, and not for the first time, Sehun agrees with him. He doesn’t know how long he could bear to look at them, let alone fight them. “How fast can they replicate?” 

“Watch,” Kyungsoo says, and the camera swings up, up far enough to see a budding limb building in front of the lens. 

Quickly, the pinhole rushrooms replicate, all but leaping forward as they crush the camera, and then all Sehun can see is the dark, dark holes of the eyes. 

“We’re screwed,” Junmyeon says, throwing his hands in the air. “We’re totally and one hundred percent _screwed._ ” 

“Oh, stop,” Kyungsoo says. “We’ve handled worse.” 

“We have not,” Junmyeon says, and he points towards the screen, frozen on the images of the holes, the ones that send shivers up and down Sehun’s spine. “That… that’s the end of days, my friend.” 

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Sehun advises. 

“My, my, how the tables turn,” Junmyeon says. “Never thought I’d hear you say that to me.” 

“First time for everything, I guess,” Sehun smiles. 

“We should begin exploring more advanced psychic blocks as soon as possible,” Kyungsoo says. “Once this thing breaches you, there’s no way of getting them out. They’ll… they end up turning you totally.” 

Another shiver dances down Sehun’s back, and he thinks back to their interexploration, the way they got into his head so easily. He’s been practicing blocking, but is he good enough to resist? He doesn’t know. 

“I’ll do some research,” Junmyeon says. “Mental manifestation is probably my favorite field of magic.” 

“Cool,” Kyungsoo says, and he sounds a little bored. 

Sehun observes him, tries to study his movements to see if he can derive any sort of information from his actions. Everything about him is so carefully blank now, and Sehun wonders if that’s his fault. Does Kyungsoo know about him and Junmyeon, what they’ve done together? Was Sehun too impatient? Should he have put all of his focus on the mission and waited until they were through to pursue Kyungsoo? Did he make the wrong decision? Is he _still_ making the wrong decision? 

“Sehun, I wanna go to the library,” Junmyeon says. “You coming?” 

“Uh, I’ll—”

“Go,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m finishing up here, so… don’t worry about me.” 

Sehun turns, thinks _All I do is worry about you._

Kyungsoo watches them go, and Sehun feels guilt grow like moss along his skin.  
  


♄

  
  
They find time to spend in Junmyeon’s room together, and Sehun never has to ask where they’ll meet when Junmyeon inevitably messages him. It is usually late, and they spend the night there, wrapped in the embrace. Sehun wonders if this is safe, if this is something that he should be doing, but he can’t talk himself out of it, not when it’s so good. Not when it satisfies some base desire within him. 

Junmyeon has him naked, stripped clean of his jumpsuit, and the bed is warm underneath Sehun’s body. He gets impossibly hard in Junmyeon’s mouth, and he has to shut his eyes for a minute to stave off orgasm, Junmyeon’s tongue licking idly around the head of Sehun’s cock. 

Leaning up on his elbows, he makes himself wrench his eyes open. He would hate to forget the sight, Junmyeon’s eyes shut, eyelashes long against his red cheeks. He is beautiful, excruciatingly so, and it makes Sehun shiver, Junmyeon’s hands tight on his hips. 

He makes wet, sucking sounds that might disgust Sehun in any other circumstance, but now, it drives him forward, closer and closer towards coming. His body is dripping liquid fire, and he wants to thrust into Junmyeon’s mouth. 

Junmyeon sucks, licks, kisses the head of Sehun’s cock as he works the shaft with his hand, slick with spit. It is dirty, filthy, and Sehun loves it. Only wants more. 

When he comes in Junmyeon’s mouth, he watches as Junmyeon’s throat works, swallowing three times before pulling off, giving Sehun’s cock another weak pump with his fist as he shudders, shivers, moans. Lust is a part of his day now the same as waking, and every time he looks at Junmyeon, he thinks of what they could be doing together, what parts of each other they could be uncovering. 

“Think you got it?” Junmyeon asks. “Or do you need a minute to formulate your thoughts? Make an attack plan?” 

He has never been so energized, and when he flips Junmyeon onto his back, Junmyeon gasps. Sehun likes that. Likes being able to shock him every now and again. 

Sehun begins by kissing his way down Junmyeon’s neck. He makes a show of it, tries to make it artful the way Junmyeon does. He lets his mouth work, tastes the sweat on Junmyeon’s skin as he sucks a little mark to Junmyeon’s skin. He thinks about leaving one that lasts, one that will stick around for a while, but he tells himself there will be time for that later. Once the war is won. 

“God, I love a good student,” Junmyeon praises, and his hands come to thread their way through Sehun’s hair, pushing Sehun further down his body. “Taking direction so well.”

Sehun hums, satisfied, and he licks at the cut of Junmyeon’s abdominal muscles, sucking away the sounds of pleasure as he keeps moving down, down, down. 

“Now, are you paying attention? Because this is what separates the men from the boys,” Junmyeon says, and his voice is thin, desperate. Sehun can tell now. It used to sound all the same to him, the shifts in Junmyeon are so subtle they become invisible to the naked eye.

 _Is that what I’m doing?_ , he wonders. _Staring at Junmyeon under a microscope, analyzing every little movement?_

Junmyeon takes his cock in his hand, and Sehun opens his mouth, lets Junmyeon tap the head of his cock wetly against Sehun’s tongue. It is lewd, and Sehun finds himself chasing after the profanity, the obscenity. 

“Look at you,” Junmyeon says, and his tone is gentle, somehow reverent, and Sehun wants to shy away from that. He’s gotten better at standing in the light of desire, but whenever Junmyeon does or says something in that voice, Sehun finds himself wanting to shirk it. “What, you don’t like it?” 

Sehun shakes his head, and his hand wraps around Junmyeon’s, circling the base of Junmyeon’s cock. He wets his lips, pouts them, rubs the head of Junmyeon’s dick along his slick mouth before kissing it lewdly, opening his mouth to suck at the tip. 

“I like it,” Sehun says, and he licks, drags a moan from Junmyeon’s mouth. “I really like it.” 

“You’re… y-you’re getting good at this, huh,” Junmyeon says, and he is losing control, Sehun can tell. His voice is weak, stumbling. 

“I’m trying,” Sehun says. “For you.” 

Junmyeon takes his hand, puts it on the back of Sehun’s head, pushing him down. Sehun goes down on him as far as he can manage, swallowing Junmyeon’s cock, and oh, there is a fullness, a weight, the most arousing sounds, and he understands fundamentally why people do this. There is power in sex, and even on his knees, he’s got Junmyeon wrapped around his finger.  
  


♄

  
  
The next morning, Junmyeon pulls three readers out of his pack, chucks one to Kyungsoo and then one to Sehun. 

“Gentlemen, our technique for the next obstacle facing us,” Junymeon says, “will be—” 

He turns to the nearest flat surface, and he bangs his hands rhythmically on it. 

“Just tell us,” Kyungsoo says boredly. “What did you find?” 

“There’s no drama in this,” Junmyeon says. “I’m trying to inject some fucking intrigue.” 

“I’m intrigued,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m plenty intrigued. Can we just—” 

“Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away,” Junmyeon begins, waving his hand across the sky, “there was an ancient technique called the _kino_.” 

“And what does the _kino_ entail?” Sehun wonders. 

“It is a magic derived from _the mind, body, and soul’s_ connection,” Junmyeon continues. “And it took _years_ for the students to master.” 

“Well, we’ve got, what, five minutes?” Kyungsoo says. “That should definitely be enough.” 

“Don’t be like this,” Junmyeon says. “Don’t kill it before we’ve even started.” 

“Fine, fine,” Kyungsoo says, and he leans back in his seat, hands covering his eyes. “Tell us what we have to do.” 

“Altogether, the kino means dealing with trauma and _using_ your trauma in order to block out everything else,” Junmyeon explains. “So basically what Sehun’s been doing for years.” He looks at Sehun with a giddy look on his face as if he expects a laugh. “Oh, come on. I was just joking.” 

“Very funny,” Sehun says. 

“But it’s an interesting concept, isn’t it?” Junmyeon asks, and he sits down next to Sehun, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. 

“Isn’t that how most people deal with their traumas, though?” Sehun asks. 

“No, no, see, you don’t understand,” Junmyeon says. “Most people _don’t_ deal with traumas. They compartmentalize, shove it away, and it festers in their soul. Kino is all about challenging the traumas, living within them. Most people can’t handle that because they haven’t dealt with the things that have hurt them. Most people only last a couple minutes.” Junmyeon looks off towards the screen, looks at the crashed camera. “We’ll need at least an hour.” 

“How do we go about doing this, then?” Kyungsoo asks. “Verbal or non-verbal?” 

“Verbal,” Junmyeon says. “And you say _ki-no-yeh._ ” 

“Okay,” Sehun smiles, and he grabs his staff. “ _Ki-no-yeh._ ”

In the next millisecond, Sehun is in a black space, the dream space, and he is swimming through memory. And then, of course, there is Minseok’s face. He watches his eyes bleed, and the stench of death is all around him, all around them both, and it creeps forward, everpresent. Sehun blinks, blinks as tears begin to fall, and he wonders if this is his life forever, reliving moments that have broken him, split him cleanly in half. 

He feels something probing at him, a breath of air, a clean white light, and he is thankful for it. He opens his eyes, sees Junmyeon and Kyungsoo staring down at him. They have breached him. 

“That did not last very long,” Junmyeon smirks. 

“C-Can you blame me?” 

“No, of course not,” Junmyeon says. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t have to get better at it.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Kyungsoo says. “All right, I can see this working if we put in the time and get better at it.” 

“Okay, let’s say sessions from nine to noon, one to three, six to nine.” 

“Reading room or the training room?” Sehun asks. 

“Training,” Junmyeon smiles, and he inhales, exhales. “Can you smell it?” 

Sehun and Kyungsoo look around. “Smell what?” Sehun asks. 

“The finish line,” Junmyeon says. “We’re nearly there.”  
  


♄

  
  
The first session of the day, all they do is talk. Sehun isn’t overly fond of these sessions, and neither is Kyungsoo if his unwillingness to open up is any indication. 

“My traumas are for me to deal with and challenge,” Kyungsoo says. “I don’t think this open atmosphere is what’s best for me, as a person or as an agent.” 

“Fair enough,” Junmyeon says. “But if you perform poorly in the second sessions, then—” 

“Then I’ll reconsider,” Kyungsoo says, and when Junmyeon turns, he gives a little roll of his eyes. 

It is strangely playful, and Sehun feels his brow quirk at it. 

“You,” Junmyeon turns on him, slowly backing Sehun up until he is practically against the padded wall, “you have no excuses.” 

“I have excuses,” Sehun says. “I have plenty of excuses.” 

“Name one,” Junmyeon challenges, and Sehun finds himself wordless. “That’s what I thought. I think we should talk out your shit.” 

“Kyungsoo has the same stuff as me!” Sehun says. “We’ve been together since the beginning!” 

“And it’s very romantic,” Junmyeon simpers. “We have to start _working_ if this is gonna be our plan. We can’t just stay stagnant.” 

“I love being static,” Kyungsoo says, and when they look back at him, he’s smiling. “Changing is no fun.” 

“Where is this coming from?” Junmyeon asks. “This personality shift, I find it challenging.” 

“Maybe this is how I deal with my trauma,” Kyungsoo says. 

“You’re not funny,” Junmyeon says. 

“Not to you,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Not to _anyone_ ,” Junmyeon smiles. 

“I like this energy,” Kyungsoo says, and he gestures between them. “We should explore this.” 

“Shouldn’t we focus?” Sehun asks. 

“Ah, we’ve got time,” Junmyeon says, and he crosses back over to Kyungsoo, sitting beside him on the floor. “I mean, what, is the Swarm gonna move? They’re rushrooms.” 

Sehun frowns as he listens to them go back and forth, an antagonism between them buried beneath the surface. He wishes it was the second session already, if only he could get into their heads, see what was going on inside them.  
  


♄

  
  
Reluctantly, they all open up. Sehun thinks that perhaps this has been a long time coming. 

“The first thing we did as a triad was basically do group therapy,” Kyungsoo says, and he has his hands folded back behind his head, staring up at the clean white ceiling. “How could it be a long time coming?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun shrugs. “We showed each other the worst moments, but it’s… it’s hard to spend a little eternity inside these things. I mean, I could barely stand a minute of yours back then.” 

“And now?” Junmyeon asks with a smile. 

“Well, it’s been hard,” Sehun says. “I’ll get better the more we practice.” 

“What was your favorite thing about him?” Junmyeon asks. 

With a second’s hesitation, Sehun answers. “His eyes.” 

“Why?” 

For a moment, Sehun is thrown back to the moment, to the Night Mare. How has it been so long? How has he moved so far past this thing that once felt like it was going to kill him? 

“Whenever he smiled, they… they crinkled up,” Sehun says. “When we first met, I thought I had a crush on him.” Junmyeon snorts, and Sehun turns, reaches out to smack him. “It’s not funny.”

“You just have a tendency,” Junmyeon says. 

“A tendency towards what?” 

“Male authority figures,” Junmyeon smiles, and he looks over at Kyungsoo who is looking back at them. “You find yourself attracted to them immediately.” 

“I don’t like the way this session is going,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon lets out a guffawing laugh, and Sehun smacks him. Kyungsoo just rolls his eyes. 

“We should be acting rather than talking,” Kyungsoo suggests. 

“What, you looking for a volunteer?” Junmyeon asks. “Fine. Let’s do this.” 

“W—Really?” Sehun asks. 

“I don’t have anything to hide,” Junmyeon says very deliberately. 

Sehun looks away as Kyungsoo puts his hands on his knees, and when Sehun looks back, Kyungsoo is staring at Junmyeon, eyes hard. “You should prepare yourself.” 

“I got it, I got it,” Junmyeon says. “Not to brag or anything, but I’ve spent the most time looking into and studying the kino.” 

“Well, let’s see how it holds up,” Kyungsoo says, and he looks at Sehun. “Ready?” 

Sehun wants to tell him no, and he feels some strange desire to throw himself between Kyungsoo and Junmyeon. 

“Yeah,” he says, and together, they watch as Junmyeon utters the word, eyes slipping shut as he is plunged back into his darkest moments. “How long do we wait?” 

“Not long,” Kyungsoo says. “Let’s go.” 

Sehun holds his staff across his legs, and he shuts his eyes, lets his consciousness slip out of his body. It is a strange feeling, never totally comfortable, and his soul runs towards the first entrance it can find: _Junmyeon_. 

He goes to it, follows his instinct, but the door is locked. He squeezes his eyes, wrinkles his nose as he tries to get inside, but the barrier is strong. He puts his hands against it, attempts to cave the metal in, but it doesn’t seem to work. He opens his eyes for a moment, lets his consciousness settle back in his own body, and he looks at Kyungsoo. His face is plain, unmoving, but suddenly, his brow furrows. 

Sehun jumps back out of himself, finds Kyungsoo against the wall. 

_The kino seems to be working,_ Sehun thinks, and he can feel Kyungsoo receive the message, sparkling across the universe. 

_Try harder,_ the echoing chorus of Kyungsoo’s voice sings, at once high and lowly pitched. 

Sehun shoves himself against the wall, lets it feel the force of his desire to get inside. His spirit moves against Junmyeon, and for a split second, Sehun thinks about doing this with just Junmyeon. Would he let Sehun in? Would it be easier that way? Does he have as much power over Junmyeon as he thinks he does, or was that all just a facade, a way to lure Sehun in? 

There is a sharp crack in the wall, and Sehun feels it ripple along his soul, vibrations making him tense and shiver. 

_Go,_ Kyungsoo’s choir says, and Sehun goes. 

He finally manages to muscle through the barrier, pushing through as if he is shoving into the ether of the astral, and the first thing Sehun sees is glowing red eyes. In the next moment, he sees a blinding flash reveal the Necronomicon, new and tempting, and in the next, he is being shoved forcefully from Junmyeon’s head. 

“What the _fuck_ was that?” Junmyeon asks. “What were you guys doing in there?” 

“We were only looking,” Sehun says breathlessly. 

“My foot.” 

“We should stop for today anyway,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s been… a challenge, all in one afternoon.” 

“I guess I am a little tired,” Junmyeon says. “We going for naps, boys?” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo smiles. “I think so.” 

Junmyeon stares at them, quirking his brow before turning. “If you wanted some alone time, that’s all you needed to say. I’ll get out of your hair.” 

It’s a little too cavalier, but Sehun is thankful for his exit, a little less so when Kyungsoo turns on him, eyes hard. 

“Sehun, you _saw_ what I saw,” Kyungsoo says. 

“I saw… something, I don’t know.” 

“How can you say you don’t know when you _do_?” Kyungsoo asks. “Why are you always busy giving him the benefit of the doubt?” 

“It’s just his memory,” Sehun says. “It wasn’t as deep as you’re making it out to be.” 

“Did you even _see_ the Necronomicon?” Kyungsoo says. “It’s all… it was all _new_. Like he was _there_ when it was written. Like _he_ was the one who wrote it.” 

Suddenly so many things fit together in his head. Too many things to ignore. Junmyeon has always been too good to be true, but his instinct has never been wrong. He’s never led them astray, Sehun reasons, but how could he know all the things he knows? 

“Are you thinking about it?” Kyungsoo asks. “Are you putting it all together?” 

“I just… it feels wrong,” Sehun says. 

“The book. The DNA. The voice. _This,_ ” Kyungsoo says gesturing back with his hand. “It just… it all has to mean something. It all has to go somewhere.” He shakes his head before looking up into Sehun’s eyes with fear. “I mean, what about the thing with your staff?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. “I really have no idea.” 

“I just don’t know that, going into this, we can trust him with any major information or plans. I don’t know that we can trust him at all.” 

“We’ve survived this long,” Sehun says. “Why would he be keeping us alive? Say we’re right, say he’s trying to dispose of us. Why would he need to keep us around this long? Why wouldn’t he have just let us die on the multiple occasions he could have?” 

“That’s what I haven’t worked out yet,” Kyungsoo says, and he worries his lip between his teeth, a movement that draws Sehun’s eye. “But there must be some logical explanation to this.” 

For some reason, it’s the words _logical explanation_ coming out of Kyungsoo’s mouth that triggers Sehun’s memory. He is immediately transported in time and space, and he thinks back to the words the dreameaters whispered to the air. _Hand of god. Closed within the pages. Machinations of his clock. Until one is split from many. Until the words are said._

“The prophecy,” Sehun says. “The prophecy, they said—”

“It just makes sense, Sehun,” Kyungsoo interrupts. “It just _does_. And we have to accept it before it's too late.” 

“What do you think will happen?” 

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo says. “But I don’t know that I wanna stick around to find out.” 

He walks out of the training room, and Sehun sits there on the floor. _What god, what clock, what words,_ he thinks. _What god, what clock, and what words?_  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun tells himself that he’s keeping an eye on him, but even he can see through that particular lie. He has never been especially good at telling lies, and this is no different. 

His conflict has been plain since the very beginning. He loves what he can’t, shouldn’t ever love. 

They rest with each other through the dead of the night, and Sehun thinks through the darkest hours. He can feel Junmyeon breathing beside him, and he wonders if this is how they end. In a moment like this. 

How can there be so much love between them when Sehun still can’t say for certain whether or not he trusts him? It should be impossible, but Sehun can’t deny what rests within him. He can’t change the way he feels, can’t reason it away. 

“Are you awake?” Junmyeon whispers, and his forearm brushes against Sehun’s back. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

Junmyeon puts his hand on Sehun’s shoulder, and even that is enough to make Sehun turn to face him. Junmyeon searches Sehun’s face, looking for some kind of clue, and Sehun guesses that he finds what he’s looking for because he frowns. 

“Today was weird,” Junmyeon mutters. 

“Yeah,” Sehun agrees. “Really weird.” 

“What did you see?” 

Sehun makes a soft noise. “Nothing.” 

“Don’t tell me you expect me to believe that,” Junmyeon says, and he smiles, handsome beyond compare. “I couldn’t… I don’t know, something weird happened. It felt like I was being blocked. Couldn’t see shit.” 

“We really didn’t see anything,” Sehun answers.

“Why did Kyungsoo look like he’d seen a dreameater, then?” 

“I dunno,” Sehun says. “Maybe he had a bad dream.” 

Junmyeon stares at him for another couple seconds, thin seconds that feel like they should be knitted together, but Junmyeon must lose interest in it, because he bats his eyelashes, bites his lip. 

“You should sleep,” Junmyeon says, and he reaches out his hand to hold Sehun’s cheek. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Sehun says. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Junmyeon smiles. “Tell me.” 

“It’s nothing,” Sehun says. “Honestly.” 

Junmyeon is slow to pull his hand away from Sehun, but his face goes hard. 

“Tell me.” 

“It’s really nothing.” 

“Sehun, seriously?” Junmyeon asks. “After all this?” 

“I didn’t wanna do this,” Sehun says. “Not now.” 

“You still don’t trust me,” Junmyeon says, and his voice is tense, fraught with emotion like he really honestly gives a shit. “ _Still_?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. “I don’t know who I’m supposed to trust.” 

“Come on.” He turns, hides from Sehun. “Come _on_.” 

“What?” 

“I think you should go.” 

“Why?” 

He sits up on the bed, body twisting to look back at Sehun. There is a look on his face that Sehun’s never seen before. Terribly revealing, like skin peeled back from flesh. It is the type of expression that spreads across the eye like naked skin, this unguarded emotion. 

“Why? Why should you fucking get to stay?” 

“So you’re just kicking me out?” Sehun asks. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, “I’m the bad guy, so I’m kicking you out. Fucking get out.” 

Sehun sits up, and he threads himself back into his jumpsuit without another word. He doesn’t know why he’s so angry. Junmyeon is right. He’s being ridiculous. Why would he expect to have Junmyeon in the most intimate way without giving the most intimate parts of himself in return? 

He walks over to the door, prepared to open it, and he turns back when he feels Junmyeon’s presence. He is still naked, and Sehun is trained. He looks down at Junmyeon’s body, looks back up into his eyes. He has to resist the urge to pull him into a kiss. 

“I don’t know what else to do,” Junmyeon says. “I really don’t.” 

“I’m sorry,” Sehun says. “If you want me to go, I’ll go.” 

“No, you just… I mean, don’t you get it?” Junmyeon asks, and his brow moves, angry. “I love you.” 

Sehun takes one step away, back against the door, the blow hitting him in the chest with force. 

“What?” 

“I love you,” Junmyeon says. “Haven’t you figured that out yet? I’m in love with you.” 

Sehun feels a strange tightness in his chest, and he balls his hands at his side to keep from stretching out his arms, taking Junmyeon in an embrace. 

“D-Don’t say that,” Sehun says. “You don’t love me.” Junmyeon scoffs, a little pitiful sound. “What? You don’t. Y-You’re—” 

“I’m what? What am I?” 

“Y-You’re you,” Sehun says. 

“And you’re you,” Junmyeon says. “And who we are doesn’t change anything. I love you. I… I think I always have, in some way.” He laughs, laughs like he’s laughing at himself. “I told myself I wasn’t gonna let this happen. I told myself, I said _This is only gonna leave you a fucking mess,_ and look what happened. Look what’s happened to us. You think I… you think I’m fighting against you. You think I’m trying to… I don’t know, what do you think I’m doing? You think I’d waste my time like this? You think I’d… God, I don’t even understand it. Can you explain it to me b-because I really just… I’m at a loss, Sehun. I don’t understand.” 

“I-I don’t know.” 

“Is that all you know?” Junmyeon asks. “That you don’t know?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Sehun says. “I don’t know, I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, you’re fucking sorry,” Junmyeon says. “Sorry enough to fuck me, but not sorry enough to love me back. Not sorry enough to trust me.” 

Sehun opens his mouth, wants to say something. Wants to tell him. _I’m in love with you. I really am. I couldn’t kiss you if I didn’t trust you. I couldn’t stand here in your presence if I didn’t trust you implicitly. I’m scared because I think you’ve fooled me. I’m terrified that you’ve convinced me you’re someone you aren’t. I don’t want to be right about this. I pray that I’m wrong. I love you. I do._

“Don’t look at me like that,” Junmyeon says, and there is a tremor that clicks in his throat. “Don’t look at me like that and then say that you don’t know.” His eyes are watering, and Sehun wants to die, has never wanted to die more in his entire existence. “Please. Please, I just…” 

“I’m sorry,” Sehun says. “I’m sorry. Don’t—”

Junmyeon sniffs, looks away, and suddenly, Sehun feels a lightyear away from him. The distance is insurmountable, impossible to cross, and he takes a step back. He doesn’t know that he can fix this. Not before the end of their mission. 

_After,_ he promises. _After it’s all over and the truth comes to light, everything will be okay again. Everything will be fine. And if I have to forgive you, if you ask me to forgive you, then I will but only if you’ll forgive me too._

“Maybe this is for the best,” Junmyeon says. “Maybe it’s for the best that we… I don’t know.” 

“What?” Sehun asks. 

“Don’t come to my room anymore, okay?” Junmyeon says weakly. “Don’t… Don’t treat me like anything other than an agent.” 

_How can I do that now?,_ Sehun wonders. _How can I look at you and see anything other than your chest ripped open, heart beating for me the way mine beats for you?_

“Okay,” Sehun says, and his throat feels raw. He reaches up absently to touch it, staring at Junmyeon. “I’m…” 

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Junmyeon says. “It’s fine.” 

It isn’t fine, and Sehun knows it, but he walks out of Junmyeon’s room that day with the distinct and overwhelming feeling that he will never return.  
  


♄

  
  
The next day, Junmyeon does not appear at any of the meals. Kyungsoo sits opposite Sehun, stares at him blankly. Sehun feels as though he’s being baited into conversation, but he does not take the bait. He waits until Kyungsoo chases after him which he inevitably does. 

“What did you say to him?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“I… I didn’t say anything,” Sehun lies, but Kyungsoo stares at him blankly. “I just told him I didn’t—”

“Oh, _Sehun_ …” 

“I told him I didn’t trust him,” Sehun says. 

Kyungsoo puts his head down on the table, exasperated, and not for the first or last time, Sehun feels as though he has upset a teacher. 

“Why would you give him that information to work with when he’s so clearly trying to use it against you?” Kyungsoo asks, voice echoing a little against the metal of the table top. “He wants to know what you know. He wants to be one step ahead of us.” He looks up all of a sudden, the movement shocking and hard. His eyes are dead when they look into Sehun’s. “I love you. Do you know that?” 

Sehun’s breath catches in his throat. “Yeah, I know.” 

“Do you love me?” 

The question sends Sehun to a forgotten part of himself, a part that he hasn’t thought about in so long. Their history, what they had together. Did he throw it all away for nothing? Is this the person he’s supposed to belong with? Was he tempted away from true love? 

“I love you,” Sehun answers, but he can’t say for certain whether he means it the same way Kyungsoo does. 

“Then what are we fucking doing here?” Kyungsoo asks. “Why are you always trying to ruin things between us?” 

Sehun bites his lip. Does Kyungsoo really feel that way about him? More importantly, is that the truth of how Sehun really acts? 

“I dunno,” Sehun answers, voice tight. He stands up from the table, blinking away tears that have become to well in his eyes. “I’m not feeling so well. I think I need to lie down for a while.” 

Kyungsoo sighs. “Go. I’ll… I’ll see you later.” 

Sehun goes to his cabin, doesn’t stop for anything. He flops down onto his bed, and he squeezes his eyes shut tight until frustrated tears pour out onto his pillow. He keeps his breath even so he doesn’t hyperventilate, and he desperately avoids thinking of what happens when they drop on Vimolod. 

All this time, they’ve spent welcoming each other in and just now, they start to block each other out. Sehun falls asleep thinking of the pain in Junmyeon’s eyes, even though he wishes he could think of anything besides.  
  


♄

  
  
Training gets more and more difficult as he is forced to dredge through the most painful moments of his life. 

“I don’t like this,” Sehun says. “There has to be some other way.” 

“If you find one, you let me know,” Junmyeon sneers, and that has been a lot more common recently, the tone edged with anger. 

Sehun probably shouldn’t blame him. They’re all being torn in different directions. He’s said hurtful things. _Thought_ hurtful things. His faith is shaking, trembling, and he’s got no idea who or what to believe in. 

“Try again,” Kyungsoo says, and the three of them are so fucking close that Sehun’s right kneecap is bumped up against Junmyeon’s left, Sehun’s left against Kyungsoo’s right. 

They form a little triangle there, sitting in the middle of the white padded training room, and Sehun closes his eyes. Thinks of the terrible before.  
  


♄

  
  
_He is walking through the corridors with Minseok at his side, and they are so close that their fingers brush as they go. He remembers this day distinctly in his reverie, remembers that it was strangely cold in the hall, the type of chill that sits in your spine, the kind that isn’t easily removed._

_“You should tell him,” Minseok encourages._

_“Tell him what?” Sehun asks, and he can’t believe he once thought he was subtle, clever._

_“You’re so cute,” Minseok says, and he shoves his shoulder into Sehun’s as they walk. When Sehun looks over, Minseok is grinning at him, gummy and sweet. “You don’t have to pretend in front of me.”_

_Even in memory, a part of him aches at the words._

_“I’m not pretending,” Sehun feels himself say, and he wishes he could change the past, wishes he could tell himself the things he knows now. Wishes he had some way of protecting the bright-eyed, smart, lovely person that stands before him in his mind’s eye._

_“Okay,” Minseok says, and he looks away, giving Sehun a chance to breathe. “If you’re sure.”_

_He always managed to do that. Make Sehun feel like he could do anything he wanted, be anything he wanted. Like the world was just waiting for him to reach out and take what he wanted._

_It didn’t feel that way at the time, and sometimes, it still doesn’t feel that way. They’re so close to the end of their mission, and still, Sehun feels like he’s spiraling out of control a lot of the time, unable to strike the delicate balance between duty and love._

_He wishes Minseok was still here. He wishes he’d done so many things differently. He doesn’t think he deserves to die or that he should have fallen in Minseok’s stead, not anymore. He thinks no one should have died at all. He thinks this all could have been avoided, some way or another._

There is a sudden, refreshing gust of wind that wipes away the scene in his head, and his eyes flutter like he’s in the middle of REM when they burst into his mind. As quickly as they entered, they disperse, and when Sehun opens his eyes, Junmyeon is staring at him like he’s just performed a miracle. 

“What?” Sehun asks, and he looks at Kyungsoo who appears to be equally shocked. “What’s wrong?” 

“You held us out for, like, an hour,” Junmyeon says. 

“What are you talking about?” Sehun asks. “It was, like, a minute.” Kyungsoo takes Sehun’s wrist, shows him the bracer. His eyes go to the clock, and there, he sees confirmation. They’ve been sitting there for over an hour. He blinks, confused, and he looks up at Junmyeon. “How could that be?” 

“When you’re in the middle of it, it feels like nothing,” Junmyeon says. “You got there. You really did it.” 

“I-I did it,” Sehun says, and he twists his hands in his lap for a minute. He can’t quite believe it. 

“Okay, great. You got it once. Now, do it again,” Junmyeon says. “And try and keep us out longer this time.” 

Sehun sits up a little straighter as the challenge is issued to him, and he dives back into the past, things about Minseok and the way he made Sehun feel safe, secure. Thinks about the way it was torn from his hands, scattered into the wind like ashes.  
  


♄

  
  
The days are long, exhausting. The more he thinks of Minseok, the more he misses him, and the grief is brought back to the forefront of his mind as they fight against their own recollection. It’s difficult to sit amidst the worst moments of your life over and over again. It’s even more difficult to leave the things where they lie, not carry the weight back to bed with you. 

Sehun stares up at the ceiling of his room, hands behind his head, and he wonders where, how this all ends. They’ve been progressing, each of them, and while they’ve breached each other, they get better and better at holding each other out. 

Kyungsoo’s been able to hold them for a full day now, from after First to long after Third, and Junmyeon yawns as the nights get long before he calls them off, tells everyone to rest. Sehun struggles with this part, the unwinding, the falling back to normalcy. Is this what it will feel like after all is said and done? Will it still be hard for him to detach? He wonders. 

His bracer flashes with a message, and when he holds it above his face, he squints at the light. 

_Go to sleep_ , Junmyeon writes. _Your heart is racing._

Sehun thinks for a minute about whether or not to tell _him_ to sleep, because, much like telling someone to keep their eyes closed, the only way of knowing that they aren’t is having your own eyes open. He smiles as he thinks about the little argument that would ensue. _Would have_ ensued, he corrects himself. Junmyeon kind of fucking hates him, and Sehun can’t say he’s wrong for that. 

Still, it makes Sehun’s heart clench in his chest when he thinks about Junmyeon, rooms away, staring at the beating line of Sehun’s heart. Does he wish he could feel it for himself, his head pressed against Sehun’s chest? Is he thinking about how much he misses me? Does he know how much I miss him? 

Sehun doesn’t answer the message, but he slips into sleep dreaming about Junmyeon, about the after. The blessed after.  
  


♄

  
  
Curiously, the more he practices the kino, the better he gets at it. The more time he spends in the difficult past, the easier it gets. Whenever he thinks of Minseok, even their last moments together, he no longer feels the surging panic he once felt. No rush of adrenaline and deep, unyielding sadness. He remembers Minseok fondly, thinks of him often, and there is a comfort to his memory. Even the bad ones. 

“Isn’t that fucking _obvious_?” Junmyeon snorts. “Everything is like that. The more you do it, the better you are.” 

“I didn’t think it would work like that,” Sehun says. “Not with this.” 

Junmyeon kicks him under the table, and Sehun glares at him. “What? I didn’t do anything.” 

Sehun huffs, sticks his chopstick through a ricewrap, and chews it. Junmyeon is being intentionally hard to deal with, and normally, Sehun finds that easy to deal with. This is less easy to deal with, and Sehun assumes that’s because he feels some kind of vague guilt in the matter. 

“I just think it’s interesting,” Sehun says sullenly. “That’s all.” 

“Very interesting stuff,” Junmyeon says, and he looks around. “Where’s Kyungsoo? Ratting me out to the Directors? Telling them that they have to keep an eye on me?” 

Sehun frowns. “Stop.” 

“Why should I? That’s what he’s probably out there doing,” Junmyeon says. “Did he tell you where he was going?” 

“No,” Sehun says. “I don’t know. I assume he’s in his room.” 

Junmyeon quickly navigates to his location system, and he pulls up Kyungsoo’s coords. “Nah. Somewhere… somewhere in the hall.” 

“Should I go talk to him?” Sehun asks. 

“I don’t give a shit what you do.” 

Sehun frowns again. “Don’t be like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Mean,” Sehun says. 

“You’re accusing me of high treason, treason against the galaxy,” Junmyeon says. “Isn’t _that_ kinda mean?” 

“Look at it from my perspective,” Sehun says. He moves his foot under the table, and it bumps against Junmyeon’s. “Try and see things from my point of view.” 

“I have,” Junmyeon says, and he looks stressed, fraying at the edge. “I’ve tried so many times, and I’m… I still think you’re making a big mistake here.” He leans forward, looks at Sehun like he’s about to beg. “ _Trust_ me.” 

“I do,” Sehun says, and in some small part, he thinks he’s telling the truth. If he didn’t trust Junmyeon _at all_ , they wouldn’t have gotten this far. 

Junmyeon stares at him, and the moment is thick with silence between them, drowned out by deafening sounds of the meal around them. Sehun tries to listen to the clinking and tapping and laughter and music of the other agents' voices, but he can only look deeply into Junmyeon’s eyes and see the disappointment in his retinas. 

“Not enough,” Junmyeon says, and he pushes back from the table, grabbing his tray to bring to the refuse. 

Sehun watches him go, and he feels distinctly as though he is bound to have something challenging him at all times. The easier one thing gets, the harder another becomes. He sits there for another couple silent, dead-eyed moments before he too pushes back from the table, disposing of the rest of his meal.  
  


♄

  
  
Kyungsoo is the best among them, and Sehun can’t say he’s surprised. Kyungsoo’s always been good at dealing with, suppressing his emotions. 

“It isn’t suppression,” Kyungsoo says, eyes closed peacefully as he centers himself in the moment. 

“What would you call it then?” Junmyeon says. “Honestly, it _looks_ a lot like suppression to me.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kyungsoo says quietly, and after that, he holds a hand up as if to silence Junmyeon. 

They sit there in the quiet for a while as Kyungsoo slips into the past, and as they wait for him to prepare, Junmyeon nudges Sehun. Sehun furrows his brow, and Junmyeon gestures to Sehun’s bracer. When Sehun looks, it is blinking with a message. 

_Have you thought about deployment?_

_Yes,_ Sehun writes back. _I have._

Junmyeon raises his brows like, _Well, good_ , and they turn back to Kyungsoo, ready to push inside, tear down an impenetrable wall.  
  


♄

  
  
They explore every avenue, and once Sehun is comfortable holding them off for a day, he realizes that they are nearing the end of the journey. There is little more to prepare. They’ve mastered so many deep, ancient magics now, and they’ve formed the best battle plan they can imagine. 

“We go in, we immediately block with secondary defenses,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Bubbling,” Junmyeon fills in. 

“Right, and then, once we find out what the Swarm wants, what it knows about the seventh atrocity, then we eradicate it,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Hurling anything we can at it,” Sehun says. 

“My favorite type of attack,” Junmyeon smiles. “Batshit crazy.” 

It is late in the evening, and the room begins to dim to a comfortable orange light. Sehun is exhausted, tongue thick in his mouth, and just as he’s about to be excused, his bracer lights on his arm. His bracer, Kyungsoo’s, and Junmyeon’s. 

Green, green, green.

“Well, I guess it sooner rather than later,” Junmyeon says, and he swipes the notification away before he even reads it. 

“We drop tomorrow,” Kyungsoo says. “So… best prepare yourselves.” 

Kyungsoo gets up, walks out of the training room, and it leaves them in an uncomfortable silence. 

Sehun can feel Junmyeon’s eyes on him, and he does his level best not to look until Junmyeon has looked away. 

“You gonna say anything?” Junmyeon asks. 

Sehun has no idea what to say, doesn’t have anything to add. They should talk about _them_ , they should talk about the _mission before them_ , but suddenly, he’s got no words. 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says, and a moment later, he stands, leaving Sehun alone to fend for himself.  
  


♄

  
  
He goes to Third on his own, and when he’s finished, he goes back to his room, queueing up some peaceful sounds as if that will help clear his head. He stares at galaxies projected onto his ceiling, and he puts his hands behind his head, staring off into the great distance, pretending like he was being swallowed up by that expanse of space. 

That evening, he gets a rare message from Junmyeon. Of course. He knows he shouldn’t go. He won’t go, he tells himself. It will only make what feels like the inevitable more difficult, more of a challenge. 

Sehun is weak. He goes when he is called. 

The evening is as pleasant as the rest, and there are plenty of agents in the quad enjoying their time. As he walks, he thinks about himself being in their shoes, being able to be normal once more. Was it ever normal, he wonders. Was he ever meant for normalcy?

It takes a moment for Sehun to spot Junmyeon, but most of the people are sitting, walking, talking. Junmyeon is lying on the grass, and he is staring at the stars. Sehun walks over, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jumpsuit.

He stands over Junmyeon, and when Junmyeon looks at him, he smiles smally. It is the first time in a while Junmyeon has smiled at him like that, and it makes Sehun’s stomach flip inside his body. 

“Hey,” Junmyeon says. “What’s up?” 

“I got your message,” Sehun says. 

“Take a seat.” 

Sehun blinks as he makes his decision on whether or not to stay, but in the end, it is really no decision at all. He lies down on the faux grass next to Junmyeon, their forearms covered but resting against one another. That touch, small and restrained, makes goosebumps line Sehun’s legs. He must crave this. He must have missed it. He didn’t let himself think those words, but now, faced with the evidence, it is… _evident._

“Been a while since we got to do this,” Junmyeon comments, and Sehun makes a noise of agreement. “I’ve missed you.” 

Sehun can’t help but turn his head, but Junmyeon is not looking at him, only looking at the black sky above them. Sehun turns back, looks at the great spread of black and purple, the bruise of the universe, and ignores the way the words make him feel like he is about to vibrate out of his skin. 

“I’ve missed you too,” he admits. 

“I know.” When Sehun looks over this time around, Junmyeon _is_ staring back at him, and he is grinning wryly. “I just wanted to see if you’d admit it.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes as he turns back to their stars, and he breathes in the artioz, lets it seep back out as he relaxes into the earth. “What did you bring me here for?” 

“Just thought it was high time we had a conversation,” Junmyeon says. “We’ve been avoiding each other.” 

“I haven’t been avoiding you. You’ve been avoiding me.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

Sehun feels guilt line his skin. “I haven’t meant to.” 

“You know better than that by now,” Junmyeon says. “You know that intention doesn’t matter with things like this.” 

“Intention should always matter,” Sehun argues. 

“If the damage is done, then everything else is just window dressing,” Junmyeon whispers. “You know that.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “I know.” 

“I’m not mad at you. I… I think we needed this time apart.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“You know why I’m keeping myself away from you,” Junmyeon says. “You know it’s not punishment.” 

“I know.” 

“I’m trying to protect myself.” 

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” Sehun asks. 

“Do you think _I’m_ going to hurt _you_?” Junmyeon asks. 

Junmyeon has a way of doing that, getting right to the fucking guts of something. “Fair enough.” 

There is something about sharing the quiet with Junmyeon that just feels so right, so correct, so that’s what Sehun allows himself to do. They live through another bullet moment together, and Sehun thinks that, if he had to die, he would want to have Junmyeon at his side. Good, bad, or the hazy gradient of the in-between, he knows that he has never loved another person the way he loves Junmyeon. He knows that for the rest of his life, no matter how long or short that might be, _that_ will never change. 

The black forever extends, the canvas that goes off into eternity, and Sehun blinks slowly, letting the relaxation take him. A sudden force tries to penetrate his mind, and he quickly blocks it away, thinking of Minseok. He turns, sees Junmyeon smiling back at him. 

“Just wanted to see if you were on your toes,” Junmyeon grins. 

“You’re evil.” 

“You certainly seem to think so.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, looks back at the orbiting planets around them. It is several more moments of shared quiet, beautiful quiet, before Junmyeon clears his throat. 

“Hey, I just wanted to say,” Junmyeon says, and the raw quality of Junmyeon’s voice makes Sehun look over, “that I’ve really enjoyed working with you.” 

It makes Sehun’s heart clench in his chest, and he bites his lip. “Why are you saying this now?” 

“I dunno,” Junmyeon says, and he looks away from Sehun, looking up at the sky. “I just feel like this is all ending.” 

“Me and you?” Sehun asks. 

Junmyeon flicks his eyes over, and his mouth curves into a smile. “Nah. Everything.” 

Sehun wonders if he knows how foreboding he sounds, how solemn and serious he can manage to be. 

“Don’t say that,” Sehun says. 

“Why?” Junmyeon asks. “Does it make you _suspect_ me more?” 

“Should I be honest?” 

“Aren’t you honest whether I want it or not?” Junmyeon smirks. 

“Sometimes you say things, and it makes me wonder,” Sehun says. 

“Yeah, I know.” Junmyeon bites his nail, and he wrinkles his nose. “I dunno. Sometimes I just get these… feelings.” 

“Like instinct?” 

“More base than instinct.” 

“What’s more base than instinct?” Sehun wonders. 

“Reflex,” Junmyeon says. “Instinct is based on biology, history, and _thought_. Instinct is complex. Reflex is just… ingrained in you. Something in your fingernails, you know?” 

“No,” Sehun admits. 

“They try to beat it out of you,” Junmyeon says. 

“Maybe I didn’t have it to begin with,” Sehun says. 

“Nah, I still see it in you.” He looks over at Sehun, and his eyes sparkle like stars live within him. “Sometimes.” 

“When?” 

Junmyeon’s eyes slide down Sehun’s face, and they focus on his mouth. “Whenever you… whenever you lick your lips.” 

Sehun resists the near overwhelming urge to follow Junmyeon’s words, scratching his tongue against his teeth. “How do you mean?” 

He lowers his voice to a whisper as he stares at Sehun. “You always have plenty of things going on in your head. You never stop thinking. You never stop dreaming about the inevitable disaster.” He looks up into Sehun’s eyes, smiles. “You are thinking and rethinking, and you want something on _instinct_ , want _me_ instinctively, but you tell yourself no. But still… your body wants it. It’s reflexive now, but your head overrides your heart, so… so you just end up licking your lips.” 

Sehun lets his eyes drift down Junmyeon’s face, staring at the kiss of his lips, and he realizes that this very well could be their last evening together. They should be somewhere else, Sehun thinks suddenly, somewhere where they can be alone. Maybe they were always meant to be alone together. Maybe they were always meant to end up like this. 

It’s a little regretful when he licks his lips, lets his eyes flick back up to meet Junmyeon’s. 

“I get dry mouth sometimes,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon gives Sehun a full smile. “I fucking hate you.” 

“No, I don’t think so,” Sehun smiles. 

Junmyeon rolls flat onto his back, and he puts his hands behind his head. “No, I guess not.” 

They share some more silence, and Sehun thinks about maybe telling him what he’s thinking. _Let’s go somewhere we can be alone one last time. Let’s find each other in the dark. Let’s be together, even if it kills us._

In the end, he doesn’t say anything at all, but when Junmyeon nudges the back of Sehun’s hand with his own, Sehun takes it gratefully, clings to him as if he is the last great atom of energy in the world as they know it.  
  


♄

  
  
He gets to the hangar before anyone else, and he watches the rotechs do their final system checks. The hollow metal is filled with beeping, clinking noises, and Sehun sits in his seat, watches as the robots move and check and tinker. Flashing blue lights make him close his eyes, his staff across his lap, and he spends the moment grounding himself in his energy, letting everything else fall away.

It is not an insignificant amount of time before Kyungsoo arrives, and he looks surprised to see Sehun sitting there. 

“Why are you here so early?” he asks. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Sehun admits. 

“They have aids,” Kyungsoo scolds. 

“I didn’t wanna chance it.” 

Kyungsoo scoffs, setting his staff down on the table next to Sehun. They trust each other enough for that. Sehun could reach out and take it, and he doesn’t. Lets it lay there between them. 

He turns his back to Sehun, and Sehun sits there, letting his eyes dust over the back of Kyungsoo’s shoulders. He’s looked broader recently, more toned. He wonders when Kyungsoo manages to fit in the time. After all, once they’re finished a session, Sehun always feels wiped clean. Scooped out. 

“What are you here early for?” Sehun asks. 

“I’m entering the coords,” Kyungsoo says, and he walks over in the directions of the ships. “Be right back.” 

Sehun was under the impression that the ships were controlled remotely from command, but he guesses there’s still a lot about this place he doesn’t understand, doesn’t have time to study. For a brief second, he thinks about the reader Junmyeon gave him, _Interviews_ , and he regrets not giving it more than that one flip. 

At that exact moment, Junmyeon happens through the door. 

“Morning, triad,” he says cheerily. “Ready to win?” 

Kyungsoo makes a groaning noise from over by the ships, and Junmyeon smiles as he walks over towards Sehun. The time approaches, and the countdowns begin. 

“You okay?” Junmyeon asks quietly. 

“I’m good,” Sehun says. “Are you good?” 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Junmyeon says with a little smile. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” 

Sehun supposes that they have. In the grand scheme of things, the amount of time they’ve spent together has been frighteningly short, and the emotions that come along with that time seem impossible. He feels things deeply, feels complicated over Junmyeon, and just this once, he wishes he had the wisdom of the universe. 

_Tell me everything will be all right. Tell me he’s who I feel he is, not who I think he is. Tell me that things will be okay, even if I’m right and even if I’m wrong._

“What are you looking at me like that for?” Junmyeon asks, and he lowers his voice a considerable amount. “You wanna kiss me one last time?” 

Kyungsoo looks back over his shoulder as the clock ticks down to sixty seconds. “Let’s get in position. There isn’t any time to waste.” 

“Rats,” Junmyeon says, and he makes an exaggerated movement with his arm. “Guess we have to win, so you’ll get another shot.” 

“I guess so,” Sehun says, and he takes Kyungsoo’s staff as they walk over, getting into each individual ship. 

“Protect yourself,” Kyungsoo whispers, and it puts a spit of fear into Sehun as they board, as the dome seals over them, as they fly, fly, fly.  
  


♄

  
  
When the ships set down, Sehun breathes in and he breathes out, collecting all the energy within his body. 

“Are we ready?” Junmyeon asks, and he is met with deafening silence. “Well, I guess that means we’re ready.” 

They get out of their ships in silence. The trees are thick even in the clearing, the leaves oval, perfect circles cut out of the center. It is lovely, smells like flowers and sweetness. 

“Let’s go,” Kyungsoo says, and he nods towards the city epicenter. 

Sehun and Junmyeon follow his lead, and together, the three of them move. 

They’re still miles away, but they move towards the great forest at the center of the planet, bringing up their bubbles. Once they step into the city proper, the scents change. Even through the breathers, the masks, he can smell the fungus, the creeping swarm. The vegetation that can stick in your head, grow along your insides. 

“Kino is a last resort,” Junmyeon reminds them. “Don’t block until you absolutely need to.” 

Sehun keeps the words in his mind as they approach. It is a beautiful place, but he feels like it will bring death. The most beautiful things, he thinks, staring at Junmyeon, often do. 

They are silent as they traverse the once great planet of Vimolod, the people long gone now. Evacuation efforts, he thinks, those must have been difficult. The city sleeps, and the streets are haunted with their ghosts. There are stands left forgotten, left to decay. Left for the Swarm to devour and control. He lets his eyes glaze over as they walk, and he listens to the _tap, tap, tap_ of Junmyeon’s staff against the stone paths. 

It would be a good time for some conversation, Sehun thinks distantly, but he doesn’t feel like talking, and judging from the tension laying thick along Kyungsoo’s shoulders, it doesn’t seem like he wants to talk either. Sehun looks over at Junmyeon, and Junmyeon looks back at him, gives him a little smile. It’s a distraction, but it is always a distraction that Sehun likes. Never one he needs, but one he loves. 

The bubbles are strong as they walk through the streets, and by the time they get to the other side of the world, they see the beginnings. The rushrooms that have yet to be taken over… 

It takes all day as they cross the unpaved planet, cutting down vegetation with severing charms as they go. They move in near silence, only the sounds of the fields around them to keep them company. 

“H-Hey,” Kyungsoo says, and he pauses, looking back over his shoulder. “I think it started.” 

They go to him, peer around him, and there next to a cyclotree, is a small rushroom. It moves like it’s breathing, communicating with the rest of the Swarm. 

“A scout,” Junmyeon says, almost like he’s appreciative. 

“So it knows we’re here,” Kyungsoo says, and he looks around, up into the air. “Fuck.” 

It’s exceedingly rare to hear Kyungsoo curse like that, and it sends a little shiver up Sehun’s spine. He looks around, tries to see anymore. Have they already lost? Have things already progressed to an unreachable low? 

“Use it as a test,” Junmyeon says, and he elbows Sehun in the side. “Killing curse. Go.” 

Sehun aims the head of his staff at the little rushroom, and he quickly blasts it to pieces. The little shell of the rushroom twitches with the end of life on the ground, and Junmyeon crouches down as if to study it. 

“Huh,” Junmyeon says.

“Huh what?” Sehun asks. 

“Just didn’t think it would work,” Junmyeon says. 

“You’ve never played Wage before,” Kyungsoo says with a little smirk, and it makes Junmyeon shake his head. 

“Wage?” Sehun asks. 

“Sometimes you give up something small,” he says, “in order to get something much bigger in return.” 

Sehun doesn’t like the implications of that statement, doesn’t like it at all. 

They walk together, and Sehun tries to keep his mind on the goal. The day passes, and it is terribly, terribly long. He looks at the sky, watching the orbit of the stars around them. When they finally reach the edge, Kyungsoo looks back, hesitates before parting one of the ferngils, steps in, the yellow leaves closing behind him. 

Junmyeon looks at him, raises a brow before he uses his staff to part the leaves with a spell. 

“After you,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun steps forward into the deep, dark jungle. 

The jungle is warm, dense with the clucking and cooing of birds. It is green, so very green, and a little part of Sehun feels at home here. Junia had forests like this one. He used to run through them as a child. He can barely remember it now, after so much. It would be nice to go back. It would be nice to bring Junmyeon and Kyungsoo along, if he could manage it. The two of them together. 

They are fracturing, he knows. It is too close to the end for them to be splintering and splitting apart, but he can feel the tension like smoke in the air, sitting in their lungs. He swallows a cough to stop from making much noise, but Kyungsoo turns, pats him on the back. He used to look for little moments like that one, moments when Kyungsoo would touch him unnecessarily. Now… now, it’s like every part of him is being consumed by his desire, his _love_ for Junmyeon. 

_Who am I?_ , he wonders. _Have I forgotten somewhere along the way?_

Kyungsoo looks at him as they walk, Junmyeon up ahead of the two of them. Sehun can practically see through Kyungsoo, all the nerves and the fear zipping through his blood vessels. Is Sehun going somewhere that Kyungsoo can’t follow? Is he right? Is there something dangerous about Junmyeon, about the way they fell in love? 

“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo says, and he laces his fingers through Sehun’s, pulling him further into the jungle. “It’s all right.” 

Junmyeon turns silently, stares at them, and Sehun slowly detaches his hand from Kyungsoo’s. 

“Are you okay?” Kyungsoo asks, and once upon a time, it would have been good, would have made Sehun feel at home, but now, it makes him feel claustrophobic and uncomfortable. 

“I’m fine,” Sehun says, and he tries to smile for Kyungsoo’s sake. “All good.” 

“Keep your bubble strong,” Kyungsoo says. “Don’t let it fall.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Promise,” Kyungsoo says. 

“I promise,” Sehun says, and he lowers his voice to a whisper as Junmyeon cuts through the vegetation, moves away from them. “What’s going on?”

“I just don’t have a good feeling,” Kyungsoo says.

“I thought you didn’t trust gut instinct,” Sehun smiles. 

Kyungsoo gives him a little smile in return, and it dives right into the pit of Sehun’s stomach. “I don’t. But we gotta keep our guard up.” 

“I know.” 

“Well, as long as you know.” 

“You guys scanning?” Junmyeon calls back. 

“I got it,” Kyungsoo says, and the air is so hot and thick with moisture that already, Sehun can see the sweat sprouting along his forehead. 

He takes the scanner from his pocket, and he holds it up, presses the button to activate it. It runs out over the jungle, a stream of colored light as it analyzes. The readout pops up in an h-gram a moment later. 

“It’s centralized,” Kyungsoo says, and he spins the diagram, watches the thrumming light shift and change. “And it’s moving.” 

“Toward us?” Junmyeon calls back. “Yeah, I can see it.” 

“What?” Sehun asks. 

“I can see it.” 

Kyungsoo looks at him, and the two of them move wordlessly over to where Junmyeon is standing. There, parting the jungle, is the creeping Swarm, the rushrooms that stare back at them with holes for eyes. 

“D-Do you feel anything?” Junymeon asks. 

“No,” Sehun says, but he stares back at the deep black holes, and they shiver when he breathes out, breathes back in. “I don’t feel anything.” 

“I don’t either,” Kyungsoo says. “This is… abnormal.” 

“That’s one word for it,” Junmyeon says. 

Together, the three of them watch as the Swarm moves forward, slipping and growing towards them. It is a relatively quick growth, strange and terrifying and also somehow _beautiful_ , and when it gets close enough, Junmyeon aims his staff and sends a little explosion to blow it away. 

It shivers and shakes as it turns to ash, and Sehun crinkles his nose. The bubble, the breather mask, and still… he can smell the stench. 

“It smells so… strange,” Junmyeon says. “It smells like… like flesh, doesn’t it? Not like a normal rushroom.” 

“That’s because it _isn’t_ ,” Kyungsoo says. “Obviously.”

“I’m just saying,” Junmyeon says. “Everything is important to note.” 

“We’re not scientists, we’re _agents_ ,” Kyungsoo stresses. “We aren’t here to study. We’re here to dispose of an atrocity.” 

“And we will. It makes sense to gather as much information about it as possible.” 

“I can’t believe we’re still arguing,” Sehun mutters. 

“Old habits die hard,” Junmyeon smiles. “Okay, let’s go.” 

“Go where?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“To the center?” Junmyeon says. “Obviously.” 

“How is that obvious?” Kyungsoo asks. “We should stay here. Wait for it to come to us.” 

“It’s like you said,” Junmyeon says. “It’s letting us kill these little growths. Why? Why would it let us do that?” 

“It wants to know what we know how to do,” Sehun says. 

“Exactly.” 

Kyungsoo frowns, bites his lip. “I don’t know.” 

“What other option do we have?” Junmyeon says. “If it was possible to kill it remotely, we would have already done that.” 

“You’ve already made up your mind,” Kyungsoo sighs. 

“I’m open to changing it if you’ve got another idea.” 

Sehun looks at Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo’s face is stone. “No, let’s move.” 

They go, and whatever infected rushrooms they happen across, they destroy. Sehun figures, at the very least, it will help in the fight later on. The less organic material the Swarm has to control, the better.

The lines of the rushrooms stretch like cracked limbs through the jungle, and they trace the arm back to the source slowly, blasting it with crackling magic as they go. Kyungsoo keeps an eye on his life scan as Junmyeon leads them, and once they get to the densest part of the forest, he gasps. 

Sehun scrambles to step forward, to see what he’s seeing. 

There, in the heart of the forest, is a rushroom, so much larger than all the rest. The beige, webbed flesh of the rushroom pulses with life, wrinkled like a brain, and Sehun gasps as the holes open and close. 

“Don’t look at it,” Junmyeon says, and he takes Sehun by the shoulder, turns him. “I think… I think it’s got something to do with the holes.” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and he closes his eyes, but the image is still there in his head. “Okay, I won’t look.” 

“Try and kill it,” Kyungsoo says. “Just aim and fire.” 

Sehun keeps his eyes squeezed shut as he hears the rippling, roaring flame scream from the end of Junmyeon’s staff. The burn is controlled, but the heat feels so delicious against his skin. He opens his eyes, stares as the flesh of the Swarm burns, crumbles into nothing but ash, a pile of it in the clearing of the jungle. Sehun looks around, and the smaller rushrooms, they survive. He half expects them to jump into action, to move and slither along the forest floor but no such action begins. They stand there in stunned silence, a little in awe of how easy it was. 

Sehun looks at Junmyeon, studies the way his hands tighten on his staff. He doesn’t lower it from his position, only looks around, mouth open. 

“Why isn’t it moving?” Kyungsoo wonders. “Why isn’t it… fighting back?” 

“I dunno,” Sehun says. “It doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Shut up,” Junmyeon says. “No more talking.” 

Sehun closes his mouth, but when he turns to look back from where they came, he sees… movement. And he gasps. The triad turns, just as they practiced, Junmyeon at their forefront. He sends a blast of magic back at the Swarm where it moves towards them, the tiny rushrooms haunting, breathing. 

A little hole is blown into the growth, but it is quickly replaced, and the banner advances. 

“F-Fuck,” Sehun curses, and he takes his own staff, sends a little fiery curse. The burn works through a lump of the fungus, but it creeps forward, moves them backwards. _The bubbles will hold_ , he tells himself. _Don’t worry. Everything will be all right._

They stumble back through the jungle, but once they are at the center of where the giant rushroom once stood, Sehun realizes that they have certainly done something wrong because now… now they are surrounded. 

“S-Should we run?” Kyungsoo asks. “What’s the plan?” 

“Remember the word,” Junmyeon says. “Don’t forget. If it touches you, say it immediately.” 

Sehun bites his lip as he sends another killing curse at his feet. Pieces of the rushroom flesh fall to the earth, and it smells like a carcass around them even through the bubble, even through the breather. He is getting nervous, the anxiety branching through his lungs, coating his tongue. 

“This is bad,” Junmyeon says, and he looks around as they watch the Swarm creep forward. He sends another little blast of killing magic towards the growth nearest Sehun’s feet, and it sends him off balance. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Sehun says, and he moves, steps into the open area at the center of the circle. 

Immediately, he knows he has made a misstep. 

A clicking sound echoes out into the jungle as his foot shifts, sinks. He looks back at the two of them, Kyungsoo’s eyes going wide. 

“Don’t move,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun holds his position, turns back to face him. There is so much fear on his features, and Sehun breathes in, holds it. “Don’t move. Whatever you do, don’t move.” 

He breathes in. In. In. Knows that he should be uttering his word at this point, but he can’t remember what the word was. Something is streaking across his brain, a memory, but he can’t seem to catch it between his cupped hands. Can’t seem to grip it. 

“What was the word?” he whispers, tears in his eyes. “What am I supposed to say?” 

Junmyeon is telling him something, his beautiful mouth moving, but Sehun can’t seem to figure out what he’s saying. He watches the movement of his lips as if Junmyeon is art, moving art, a little piece of ent just for him. He is in awe, and tears spill down his face as the sound trickles in. It is lovely. Each piece of him is lovely. Sehun dreams about a moment, a hot, sticky moment when they were stuck together with sweat and love. Wasn’t that real? Was it just a dream? 

“Sehun—” 

The sound of his name is gorgeous, like music, and Sehun has exactly one hundredth of a millisecond to register it before the Swarm grabs him and takes him.

It moves through him like fucking lightning, a storm of control. He is slowly losing his body, loses his soul, and it feels like he’s dying. 

_No_ , he thinks. _Not like death. Like transformative growth. Creeping, creeping growth inside my eyes. Through my fingers. In the marrow of my bones. Through my pores. Millions of pores. Millions and millions of holes._

His limbs go numb, and he desperately tries to hang on to the last vestige of who he is. He tries to keep weight on his toes, tries not to move, but he can’t feel himself any more. Can’t feel anything. Not even gravity. Not space, and not time. 

“I… I can’t feel my feet,” Sehun says. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

The planet opens underfoot, and before he knows what’s happening, they are being swallowed into the center of Vimolod, twisting channels of black and green.  
  


♄

  
  
When he wakes, he is wrapped in vines. His eyes are slow to adjust to the lack of light, but he studies his surroundings carefully. The walls are mossy and green, and it smells like detritus and bugs, the bottom of the jungle floor. He wrinkles his nose as he searches for anything of merit, anything to tell him where he is, how he could emerge. He holds his body very carefully, scared that at any moment, the Swarm will realize he’s awake and will take him back within their control. 

“Sehun.” 

He whips his head around, and he sees Junmyeon standing there, free. He looks like a carbon copy, but Sehun can immediately recognize him for what he is, little more than a mirage. His hair is dark, dark and natural, and he looks equally beautiful, but still… different. 

“Help me,” Sehun whispers. “Help me.” 

“I can’t,” Junmyeon says. “You’re already lost.” 

“Lost where?” 

“We’ve got you,” Junmyeon says, and the image of him is so convincing until it all falls away, his skin peeling back, revealing the haunting image of pinhole darkness in the rushrooms. Each little hole demands his attention, and his eyes tire staring at Junmyeon’s visage. It is terrible, horrific, and his stomach turns. 

“Is he dead?” Sehun asks. “Is the real Junmyeon… is he dead?” 

“This agent should be the least of your concern,” the Swarm says, speaking through Junmyeon’s mouth as the skin rebuilds around him. “Sleep.” 

And with no hesitation, with the response of total control, Sehun sleeps, falls under and under until he can’t even feel his skin.  
  


♄

  
  
He gasps, and his eyes open. 

If he could just think of the word, if he could just get the word in his head, he thinks he could get them out of his head. He thinks he could stop whatever game they’re playing. He thinks he could manage it. _Just remember the word_ , he thinks. _It was so simple, and it rolled in his mouth._

“K-Ki—” 

The vines around him, dark, forest green, squeeze him tightly around the middle, and they steal the breath from his lungs. He tries to choke out a sound, but he feels like he’s about to be snapped in two. 

The tension around his middle relaxes a moment later, and he isn’t sure why. The Swarm has every opportunity to kill him, every opportunity to dispose of him. Why haven’t they? Why delay the inevitable? 

“The game is still being prepared.” 

He looks up, and there is Junmyeon again. His black hair is hanging into his face, and he looks so innocent, so sweet. 

“What game?” Sehun asks, and his voice comes out harshly, hoarsely. “What are we… what do you need us for?” 

“We don’t,” the Swarm answers. 

“Then why not just kill us?” 

Junmyeon shrugs his shoulders. “Where is the fun in that?” 

“So it’s just for entertainment?” 

“It is for many things, many complicated things you couldn’t begin to understand,” the Swarm says. “Imagine a color you’ve never seen before. Try to put a name to that color. Of course, you can’t. It’s impossible for you. Your soul, your mind… it’s too small. You cannot comprehend it.” Sehun looks into Junmyeon’s eyes, and for a moment, he can see through the facade, see through to the pinhole black eyes of the rushroom, but when he blinks, the image disappears, dark-haired Junmyeon taking its place. “You feel three dimensions. We _see_ in twenty.” 

Sehun lets his head hang lowly, the feeling of defeat streaking along his body like pure exhaustion. 

“Good,” Junmyeon’s voice praises. “Good, rest. You will almost certainly need it.”  
  


♄

  
  
He can’t tell how long it’s been between the time he fell asleep and the time he wakes up, because it truly feels as though he’s opening his eyes after a long blink. It is a jarring feeling, sleeping in one room, waking up in another. It takes him a moment to adjust. 

The room is dark, confusing, and when Sehun turns, he sees that they are on white stone pedestals, fastened to pillars. Nearly all of the surface is covered by swarming growth, vines keeping them where they’re meant to be. And there, hanging dead center in the room, is a screen. Sehun tilts his head, shocked to see a piece of tech in a world that seems so natural, so of the earth. 

Slowly, the screen flickers on, a haunting blue color, and Sehun looks to his side, sees Junmyeon and Kyungsoo still unconscious. It is the real Junmyeon. Red hair. Sehun breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Hey,” Sehun calls. “ _Hey._ Wake up.” 

Junmyeon is the first to stir, and he looks around as he blinks, coming to terms. What did he hear? What did they tell him? Did they show him _Sehun_? Is the Swarm that deep in his head that they saw that Junmyeon is who he thinks of most? 

“Where are we?” Junmyeon immediately asks. “What’s going on? What has it told you?” 

“Nothing,” Sehun says. “I don’t know anything.” 

“Figures.” 

“Hey,” Sehun says, “I don’t know if you realized, but we’re kind of in a bad situation, and I would appreciate it if you could refrain from—” 

“Calling you dumb?” Junmyeon smiles, and blows his hair, cherry red, away from his eyes. “Not a chance.” 

At Sehun’s left, Kyungsoo makes a soft moaning sound, so immediately Sehun turns his head to look at him. He doesn’t appear to have any injuries, and that sets Sehun’s heart at ease for the moment. 

“Are you awake?” Sehun asks him. “Are you okay?” 

“I-I think so,” Kyungsoo says, and he looks around the room, dense with vegetation, and he squirms within the hold of the vines. “What’s going on?” He looks to the screen, glowing blue. “What is that?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. “I think there’s… I think it’s playing a game with us.” 

A computerized chime sounds from above them, and they all look to the ceiling. There, parting through some of the leaves and the roots and the vines is the wirebox of a speaker system. 

“Welcome,” a cheery voice says. “The game will begin in three minutes. It is time to prepare.” 

Sehun looks at Junmyeon, and Junmyeon looks back at him. Sehun looks to Kyungsoo, finds him staring at the screen. 

Once Sehun locks on, the bright blue display goes black, and then, their faces are displayed, captures from their journey through the Vimolod city proper, through the jungle. Underneath each of their pictures, their name is displayed. Underneath that, a percentage. _33.3%_

“Does anyone volunteer?” the voice asks. 

There is only a second for the three of them to look at each other before lights begin to flash, and their eyes are drawn back to the screen. A box of white light ticks between each of their pictures, highlighting them. The box moves slowly at first, but it picks up speed after a moment, moving lightning fast between the three pictures. Sehun can barely trace it with his eye when it moves at its quickest, but he doesn’t need to worry over it long. The white box slows, ticks between their pictures at a luxurious pace before flicking from Junmyeon to Kyungsoo to Sehun. It stops on Sehun’s picture, begins to flash, black and white, black and white. 

Sehun looks at Junmyeon, looks at Kyungsoo, and the panic rises in his throat, gripping him tightly. 

“Bad luck,” the voice says. 

Sehun’s eyes shut, and he thinks that perhaps, it is for the last time, all of the life drained out of him like blood from a slit neck.  
  


♄

  
  
“Sehun. _Sehun._ ” 

It’s like waking from a horrible dream, and he blinks several times before he clears the oily film over his eyes. Time doesn’t feel real anymore. If he closes his eyes, it’s almost as though he can step outside the bounds of it. 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon says, and when Sehun turns, looks at him, his hair looks like it’s glinting, on fire. “Sehun, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Sehun says, but his head is blaring. “W-What’s going on?” 

“We’ve been moved,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun turns his head to stare at him. The vines hold them like coffins. “There’s… the game is about to begin.” 

“What game?” 

“The game is five questions long,” the voice says, happy and sweet. “Answer three correctly within the time allotted, and you win your freedom. For every incorrect answer, you will be punished.” 

“Fuck,” Junmyeon says. “ _Fuck_.” 

When Sehun looks over at him, he has his eyes squeezed shut, and he is focusing so hard that his veins are popping out, one along his forehead and one running down the line of his neck. 

“There’s no magic allowed in the arena,” the voice says. “ _That_ wouldn’t be fair.” 

There is rapid movement through the air, and Sehun watches as a razorwhip slices Junmyeon across the face, immediately spilling blood and a scream of pain from Junmyeon. Sehun struggles against the binds as if he could do something even if he was freed. The sound of Junmyeon’s pain boils Sehun’s blood, and he wishes he could do something. Do anything.

“F-Fuck you,” Junmyeon curses to the ceiling, and the blood streaks down his cheek. He licks some away, spits it to the vines that writhe over the floor. “Honestly, _fuck_ you.” 

“The game begins now,” the voice says, and then, the screen at the center of the room flashes with words. 

_What falls but never breaks? What breaks and never falls?_

“It’s _riddles_?” Junmyeon asks. “Riddles? Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“Hurry,” Kyungsoo says. “Hurry, we have to think.” 

“Plenty of things fall and don’t break, what the fuck,” Junmyeon says. “I fucking hate riddles.” 

“You liked them before,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Well, to be honest, I’m changing my views on quite a lot of things.” 

Sehun feels a squeezing around his stomach, and he expects it to relent eventually, but the pressure only continues to grow, worsen. Panicking, he looks up to the screen. It’s then that he realizes that they are being timed. The numbers tick down from sixty, and Sehun fumbles over his words as he tries to alert them bickering at either side of him. 

“W-We’re being timed,” he says, and he furiously tilts his head back and forth towards the screen. “We’re being timed.” 

“W-What kind of punishment is it?” Kyungsoo wonders. 

“Let’s not find out,” Junmyeon says. “Falls but never breaks. Breaks and never falls.” 

Sehun frantically searches his mind as the vines around him squirm, making him gasp for breath as he futilely tries to suck less and less air into his lungs. 

“It’s abstract,” Kyungsoo says. “It’s something vague.” 

“A concept,” Junmyeon says, and he looks to Sehun. “Um. Fuck. Uh.” 

“Night,” Kyungsoo says. “Falls. Doesn’t break.” 

Sehun looks at Junmyeon and can only focus on his beauty as the air is leached from him slowly. He watches his mind work furiously, searching for an answer. His eyes search the air like perhaps the information will fall from the astral plane. 

“A-And… and day?” Junmyeon says, unsure of himself for a moment before he nods up and down as if he’s convincing himself. “Day. Night and day. Night falls and never breaks. Day breaks and never falls.” 

There is a pleasant chiming above them, and then, all at once, the vines wrapped around him relax. Sehun gasps and chokes as he sucks in as much air as he can get, unsure that the next breath will come. 

“Fuck,” Junmyeon says, and the blood runs down his neck, marries his black jumpsuit, the dark viridian of the vines. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m okay,” Sehun says. “It just… it hurts.” 

“Hang in there,” Junmyeon says. “We’ve got one. We can get two more, right?” 

“Right,” Sehun says, tells himself as he closes his eyes. He wants to block out as much of this as he can. “Right.” 

“Focus,” Kyungsoo chides. “The second question is coming up soon.” 

As if on his cue, the voice speaks. “Good work, agents. Four questions left, and all you need is two more. Are you prepared?” 

“Yes, just give it to us,” Junmyeon says, and then, the white words flash up onto the screen. 

_What grows when it eats and dies when it drinks?_

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Junmyeon says, and the timer clicks down from sixty to fifty-nine, fifty-eight. “What in the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Stop,” Sehun says, and the vines wrap tighter and tighter around his body as the time leaks out. “Guess. We have to… we have to get it right.” 

“Moss,” Kyungsoo says, “no, that’s… that’s not it, uh…” 

“Mold,” Junmyeon says, and he frowns. “Fuck, no. Um.” 

“Dies when it drinks,” Sehun says. “What dies when it drinks?” 

“What’s it drinking?” Junmyeon asks. 

“H-How should I know?” Sehun says. “Shakes?” 

“Dies when it drinks,” Kyungsoo repeats. “I… I don’t know, I—” 

There is frenzied silence, and the three of them are lost in thought, murderous, terrible thought. Sehun tries to focus his mind, but all he can think of is the way he is squeezed. Junmyeon babbles through different guesses at his side, but the seconds tick away. Sehun realizes then that he will be punished, that he will surely face the brunt of whatever opposes them. _Three, two, one._

“Time’s up,” the voice says, and the words disappear from the screen. “First, we take his hand.” 

Sehun’s eyes go wide as the vines around his body relax, but the growth around his right hand, his primary staff hand, tightens to an excruciating, blinding degree. The pressure is unbearable, bright and awful, and Sehun groans as he tries to grit his teeth through it, but when he feels his bones begin to shatter under the immense weight, he screams out into the room. Tears flood from his eyes, and he cries out as his hand is lacerated, dislocated, fractured. The pain is all-encompassing and total, and he struggles to keep air in his lungs as he hyperventilates, shocked. 

“Breathe,” Junmyeon coaches. “Breathe, breathe.” 

“I-I c-c-can’t,” Sehun stutters, and he stares down at what’s left of his hand, a mush of flesh and bone and blood, and tears streak down his face. “F-Fuck, fuck.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Junmyeon says softly. “It’s okay, just… no shock, okay? No shock.” 

“I-I can’t,” Sehun says. “I can’t.” 

“You can, you can,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun looks at him, the panic steadily rising in his blood. “Just focus on me. It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

“I’m cold,” Sehun says. “I’m really cold.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“I’m gonna die,” Sehun says, realizing it very suddenly. “Fuck, I’m gonna die. It’s gonna kill me.” 

“No, it’s not,” Kyungsoo says, and Sehun whips around, almost forgetting he was there. “We’re gonna get them right, right?” 

“R-Right,” Sehun stutters. “Right.” 

He has very little time to calm himself down, but he takes every second gratefully, sips at it carefully. Before too long, though, he screen flashes with the words as the ties around him bind tighter, ever tighter. 

“I am light as a feather, but you cannot hold me for long,” Kyungsoo says. “Hurry. _Hurry._ ” 

Sehun’s mind feverishly works, and he tries to struggle against the hold simultaneously, everything flashing by in an instant, quicker even. His hand aches with heat. Panic sets in as he watches Kyungsoo struggle and move. _Think_ , he tells himself. _Think. Light as a feather. Light. Can’t hold. Can’t._

“Breath,” Junmyeon stutters, and the slice through the side of his mouth is sickly red. “Your breath.” 

There is a momentary relaxing of the binds, and Sehun sucks in air like he is dying, like the life is being squeezed right out of him. And it is, he supposes. There is only so much of this he will be able to withstand. 

“Fuck, look at him. He can’t do this forever,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun wonders what he looks like in order for Junmyeon to display so much concern on his features. “We have to get out before it’s too late.” 

_Too late never comes,_ he thinks, head fuzzy. _Not for us._

“We only need one more,” Kyungsoo says. “Just one more.” 

“We can do it,” Junmyeon says, but it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself along with Sehun. “We can do it, right?” 

“Right,” Sehun says, and his forehead is drenched in sweat. 

The screen flashes. More words. Sehun can barely focus his eyes on them now. He’s so tired. So, so tired. 

“You heard me before, yet you hear me again,” Junmyeon says, and his voice is shaking, trembling. Sehun has never heard him so scared. “Then I die until you call me again.” 

“Oh, astral plane, _help_ us,” Kyungsoo says, and the time begins to chip away to the floor. 

“Friends,” Kyungsoo says. “Friendship.” 

Sehun looks to the ceiling, hoping to hear the pleasant chime of a correct answer, but no such chime dings. 

“Reflection,” Junmyeon guesses, and Sehun tries to form a guess of his own, but his brain is loose and dizzy as they throw out words beside him. “No, sound!” 

None of the guesses, not _message_ , _help_ , or _inspiration_ make the bell chime, and as the timer goes to ten seconds, then nine, Sehun feels a scream rising up into his mouth. 

“This is all wrong, fuck, we’re not gonna get it,” Sehun says, and the acid in his stomach feels like it’s about to eat him alive. He is scared, base level terror dripping down his face. “I… I don’t want to die. I don’t want to—” 

“Time’s up,” the voice sings. 

Without another word, Sehun hears a sick breaking sound, and shock sets in as his stomach drops out, as his mouth falls open on a scream that barely registers to his own ears. He looks down, sees his leg bent in a direction it should not be bent in, and when the thick vine around it releases its hold, the limb hangs limply as the pain immediately lances through him, swallows him living. 

He will not make it out of here, and he is so scared to die. 

“Next, we will take his neck,” the voice says, and Sehun can barely hear it, the thumping of blood so loud in his ears. “There is only one question left. You will either give his life or earn your freedom.” 

The words flash onto the screen after the voice has ceased, and Sehun has to squint through tears to get a clear image of their lines and curves. 

_The more of me, the less you see._

The binds begin their tightening, but Sehun’s eyes go wide with joy. He knows this one. He remembers it from when he was a child, a child back on Junia. He remembers. He gasps, struggling for air as the vines choke him, tightening around their prize. His throat. 

What he wouldn’t give to return to Junia, to see her greenery again… the birds. The birds. What he wouldn’t give just to hear the birds.

“Darkness,” Sehun gasps, and as the bell tolls, the vines slither back to the floor, not just his own but Junmyeon’s and Kyungsoo’s as well. 

“Fuck,” Junmyeon says, ecstatic. “Fuck! _Y-You did it!_ ” 

Sehun’s body falls to the floor, all of the gravity sinking him down to the writhing vines. They do not crawl to devour him, but the pain jolts through him, and that is more than enough to make him whine. 

“Find an exit,” Junmyeon says to Kyungsoo, and he kneels at Sehun’s side, putting Sehun’s arm around his neck. “We have to go, okay?” 

“I can’t move,” Sehun says, and he looks down at his mangled hand, whatever is left of his leg. “I… I can’t.” 

“You have to,” Junmyeon commands, “because we’re not leaving you behind.” 

Junmyeon is ginger as he stands Sehun back up, and the living earth underfoot makes it hard for Sehun to not wobble around and fall back down. 

“Can you put any weight on it at all?” Junmyeon wonders. “Here, let me…,” and he grabs a mini medmach from his belt. “Here. Sit on the pedestal.” Sehun obeys, sitting as Junmyeon quickly keys in some instructions. “The hand… I’m sorry, it’s gonna have to wait. I’ll see if it can cast the leg for the moment just for some stability.” 

“O-Okay,” Sehun says. “Okay.” 

The little flitting bots scream from the machine, and Junmyeon immediately turns, searching the walls with Kyungsoo. Sehun watches as they use their magic to blast away at the vegetation, only to see more and more rebuild in its place. 

_What was the word?_ , Sehun thinks. _I can almost hear it. Almost. Almost._

He isn’t sure who gives him the answer, but it falls into his head almost as if it is leaking through the speakers. He looks at Junmyeon and Kyungsoo, wondering if he’s the only one who can hear it. It seems to dip and weave between the soundwaves, and Sehun blinks. Suddenly, it’s the only thing he can think. It’s the only thing he can think. 

“Ki-no-yeh,” Sehun whispers, thinking of Junmyeon’s voice before he is deep within his own head, deep in the recesses of his mind. 

But he is not alone. Inside his brain, crawling along the pink flesh, he sees the Swarm, already implanted. It looks like fungus, the pinhole eyes along his frontal lobe. He closes his eyes, thinks of Minseok, and then, of Junmyeon. Thinks of the two of them together. The way they would talk. The way they would bounce off each other. 

_Get out_ , he thinks. _Go away and don’t ever come back. I am built of the past, present, and the future, and you will die here on this world, cold and alone._ He thinks of Minseok’s eyes, blood filled. Thinks of the dying light. _No matter how much you’ve consumed, no matter what you’ve done, I will always be greater than the sum of my parts. I will always be strong because I am constructed by those I love, have loved, will always love, and that’s something that you could never understand._

It is a shining white light that streaks across his mind’s eye, and just like that, the Swarm is flaked away, screeching and shivering, the pinhole eyes brightened to an absurd, colorful degree. If he is dead because of the energy it took to rid himself of this, _then good,_ he thinks. _Good._  
  


♄

  
  
When he opens his eyes, Junmyeon and Kyungsoo are standing over him, fearful. 

“You did it,” Junmyeon whispers. “Y-You did it, you…,” and he looks around the dungeon. 

The walls are grey metal, a tin can, and the vines, the shuddering vegetation is all black and rotten. Sehun frowns, wondering how it all happened. 

“W-Wh—” 

“There was some… some magic,” Junmyeon laughs. “Some magic, some _ancient_ shit, and you… you’ve always been so much stronger than you thought, babe.” 

Sehun feels the smile pull at his lips. “S-Stop, you’re—” 

“I hate to interrupt this touching moment, but I think we should be going now.” 

“Why?” Junmyeon asks. “His leg, his hand, we should—” 

Kyungsoo wordlessly points at one of the decaying growths, and Junmyeon walks over to it. Sehun feels the otherworldly urge to follow him, and so he slowly pushes himself off the ground. The cast makes it difficult, but he does his best anyhow, hopping over uselessly to stare at one of the vines lying on the floor.

“Fuck,” Junmyeon says, and the bruise on the vine begins to ooze, black and bubbling. “Scan that. What is it?” 

Kyungsoo gets his scanner from his belt, and he holds it up to the black liquid that seeps out and begins to spread over the metal floor. 

Suddenly, there is a burst of golden light, nearly swallowed by permablack, and Sehun gasps as Junmyeon holds an arm around his body, protecting him. The explosion of black, bubbling acid eats away at Junmyeon’s bubble and the three of them stare at each other, shocked, confused. 

“Come on,” Kyungsoo says, and he pulls on Sehun’s arm, “run. _Run._ ” 

The three of them run from the dungeon towards the stairs as the bubbling acid begins to eat away at the walls. It hisses, boils underneath them, and Sehun is near tears as he moves. He is out of breath within a couple moments, his chest aching, but he runs, moves like he will die if he doesn’t. And isn’t it the truth? They’ll die if they don’t move. 

The staircase curls from the depths of Vimolod, and together, the triad hurries. Sehun absently wishes he accompanied Kyungsoo on some of those late nights to the runners, wishing that he had a bit more stamina when it came to aerobic exercise. 

“We’re almost halfway there,” Kyungsoo says, and he barely sounds like he’s working at all, voice calm and even. 

“I-I don’t know how much more I can run,” Sehun says, and his leg is aching, pulsing with pain as each and every step onto his foot feels like he is driving a knife into it. “I…” 

He looks behind him, sees the oil-slick black acid moving so fucking close to him, practically lapping at his ankles. His face is wet with blood, sweat, tears, and snot, and he looks back to Kyungsoo, chases him up. 

“Come on,” Kyungsoo says. “Let’s go.” 

Sehun swallows, gasping for breath as he goes. The clunking of his cast against the metal of the stairs is deafening in his ears. 

“I don’t think I can make it,” Sehun says, and suddenly, Kyungsoo stops in front of him. Sehun is confused for a moment, stops himself, and then, Junmyeon is peering down around Kyungsoo, staring at Sehun. “W-What?” 

“Not the time for this, okay?” Junmyeon says. “We can do it. _You_ can do it.” 

“I can’t,” Sehun says, and it comes out like a whine. 

“Look behind you.” Sehun squeezes his eyes shut tight before turning, sees the rising tide of black, and he feels the heat, the bubbling heat. He looks back to Junmyeon, whimpering. “Is that gonna kill you?” 

“No,” Sehun tells him, tells _himself_. “It’s not.” 

“Then let’s go, okay?” Junmyeon says. “It’s not gonna get any easier, but we have to move or die.” He smiles at Sehun, looks at his leg, and he runs down to meet him, Sehun’s arm thrown around his neck once more. He hoists some of Sehun’s weight onto himself. “God, I’m—it’s gonna be okay. Let’s move. Let’s get to the medmach. The big happy medmach where you’ll get a new leg, okay? A perfect, shiny new leg, okay?” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and he faces forward, closes his eyes, and takes each stair like it is a mountain, just as surmountable as anything else. 

They climb for what feels like forever as the acid chases them up and out of the depths of the planet, and pain surges through Sehun’s body with every step. He might be dying, but he won’t let this kill him. 

Finally, finally, they reach the surface, and the stars are blinding as they step into the light. Sehun gasps, shaking, and he looks back to find Junmyeon using his staff to throw trees, root and all, into the gaping maw of the earth. 

The black acid eats through it all, and Junmyeon sends more and more into the hole to try and satiate the hunger. 

But the wave grows, bursts forth like a geyser. Junmyeon builds another bubble around the three of them, frantic and panicked, and— 

“Oh.” 

Sehun looks back, sees Kyungsoo staring across the world. 

The three of them look back at the ships, sees their homing lights shining bright blue. Within fifteen minutes, the ships will return whence they came, with or without the triad they brought there. Junmyeon looks at him with fear in his eyes, and then, they are sprinting. 

They move as quickly as they can, running through what’s left of the jungle, and once they arrive, out of breath with sweat dripping down their faces, Sehun looks around, trying to figure out what could have triggered such a reaction. 

“Oh,” Junmyeon says, and he raises his arm, staring at his bracer. “Oh, holy _fuck_.” 

Sehun raises his own bracer, stares at the message. The stark shift is immediately unfamiliar to him, the letters all jagged and red across the display. It looks like it’s been scratched in blood, carved into the metal’s skin. It sends a shiver up his spine, the nails of the words scratching along the inside of his flesh. 

_The last battle has already begun. I know you think you will find me weakened, but I have power beyond human comprehension. You know where you will find me._

Sehun looks at Junmyeon, looks at Kyungsoo, looks between them as though he will find some sort of answer there. But the answer has been there all along. It was always meant to end there, at the feet of the Agency. After all, that’s where the grimoire rests, deep within the bowels of the building. 

“This is it,” Junmyeon says, and he taps open his ship, steps inside, the dome held high above him. He seats his staff in the compartment, looks out over Vimolod as if he is some great conqueror. “This is the end of the world.” 

Sehun looks to his own ship before shutting his eyes. If this is the end, if he will be facing Junmyeon down in the heart of what he’s called home for so many years, then at least he will do it with a clear conscience. He tried his level best. He has never been flawless, faultless, but he tried. 

Sehun gets into his ship just as the homing signal lifts them all up and off, and as the dome ratchets closed around him, he breathes in and out unsteadily, listens to the humming of the motors. He stares down at Vimolod as it is devoured by a black wave of acid, as the planet crumbles and bursts into energy and light. This really _is_ it, he thinks. The end. 

If he had to die, he thinks he might like to die in the middle of the green faux-grass, the stars streaking above them. He thinks he might like to die by Junmyeon’s hand. He smiles to himself, happy to finally, finally be at the end.


	8. Chapter 8

The ships land in the hangar, and there is no one there to greet them. The emergency lights are flashing. Everything is blue then black. Blue then black. It is the kind of quiet that consumes. The kind of quiet that skins you. 

“We have to go,” Kyungsoo whispers, and he looks over his shoulder at Junmyeon. It reads as stuttering motion thanks to the strobing lights, jarring and scary. He stares at Junmyeon as if he’s keeping an eye on him. “We have to find where he is.” 

“Go to your cabins,” Junmyeon advises. “Get prepared. This is gonna be the big one.” 

Sehun’s heart is in his mouth as they move, and he follows Kyungsoo towards the door. Junmyeon holds him back, a hand tight on his bicep. Sehun whines softly, looks back. Blue. Black. Blue. Black. 

Junmyeon stares at him for several seconds, seconds they don’t have. Then, he watches Junmyeon’s lips move, the words so quiet that Sehun barely registers them. 

“I love you,” Junmyeon says. “I do.” 

“I know,” Sehun says. “I… I love you too.” 

Junmyeon wrinkles his brow. “Do you?” 

“I do,” he whispers back. “And I’m sorry. For everything. I’m sorry it took me so long to… to say it.” 

Junmyeon whimpers, a soft sound that reminds Sehun of all those lovely nights, ones that seem so far away from him now. He leans in, wraps his hands around Junmyeon’s neck as he kisses Junmyeon deeply.

 _If this is the last time I get to kiss someone, if this is the last little bit of happiness I get, I want to share it with him,_ he thinks. 

“Go,” Junmyeon says. “Go get into the medmach. Fix yourself up. I want to… I want to see you happy and healthy at the end of this.” 

“Me too,” Sehun says, and he feels tears welling in his eyes. He wishes he had appreciated the peace when he was in the thick of it. Now, when he wants it most, he feels like he’ll never have it again. “We’ll see each other soon.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon smiles, and he leans forward, knocks his forehead against Sehun’s. “Soon.”  
  


♄

  
  
He runs out of the hangar, and he is met with the ugly face of chaos. 

The air is full of magic, spells being blasted from staves like laserbullets from a gun’s burning barrel. He ducks, and he sees what the commotion is. Sees what they’re dealing with. 

Droids. Thousands, he thinks. No, maybe a million. They are polyhedrons, flying, shooting bright blue laserbullets, and as Sehun tries to make his way back to his cabin, he captures as much information about them as he can. It might prove useful. He runs, hobbles back, and he watches them. They are built of shiny white metal that reflects gold, they have blinking lights on their displays, remotely controlled, and they are murderous. 

The bodies of agents he knew and agents he didn’t are strewn throughout the twisting halls, and Sehun tries not to look. If he looks, he will remember their faces. If he looks, he will be distracted. If he looks, he might end up alongside them. 

He finally gets to his cabin, but when he tries to scan in, his permissions have been revoked. His hand pulses with pain, and he whines, looking around. 

He smashes the end of his staff against the reader until it short circuits, and the door automatically slides open. He hurries inside, and he leaps into the medmach. It scans over him, and Sehun closes his eyes, bracing for the local, but instead, a mask falls over his face. He breathes in deeply, immediately sleepy, so tired that he can’t even open his eyes. He looks down, sees the cast being cut open, and that’s the last thing he remembers. The last thing he sees.  
  


♄

  
  
The medmach beeps, and he claws his way back to the surface with a groan. 

_PROCEDURES COMPLETE: HAND RECONSTRUCTION, LOWER EXTREMITY (LEG) RECONSTRUCTION. INTERPOSITIONAL VESSEL GRAFTS. FLUID REPLACEMENT. PAIN MANAGEMENT_

Sehun blinks slowly as the machine opens, letting him out. He stares down at his leg as he takes his first step on it, and he is astounded as he feels no pain. It doesn’t even feel any different. He closes his eyes, breathes in. _This is it_ , he thinks. _This is it._

He taps his bracer, goes to the triad menu. He highlights Junmyeon, sees his coords on the map. He is on the quad. His heart rate is elevated, but Sehun guesses that’s normal. He smiles, watches the little dot dance around. Sehun wonders if he is dealing with the droids. Wonders if he is fighting alongside other agents. 

Sehun goes to Kyungsoo’s, sees him in the hall, and Sehun makes the decision to join him. Maybe they will be able to fight together. The last fight. 

The droids are light, flitting from place to place, and Sehun sends killing curses to blast their bodies from the air. Kyungsoo whips around, smiles at him, and it feels like old times. Feels like what he remembers from before. 

“Hi,” Kyungsoo says, and he aims his staff, sends a blast near Sehun. Sehun turns, sees a droid scatter into metal and sparks of light. Sehun faces Kyungsoo again, sees his smile grow. “You look better.” 

“I feel better,” Sehun says, and he watches as a droid circles Kyungsoo. “Duck.” 

Kyungsoo obeys, ducks down to his knees, and Sehun sends a blast of air, knocking it back from Kyungsoo before blasting it into nothingness. Kyungsoo looks back over his shoulder, and he sends Sehun a look, exhilarated. 

“This is insane,” he says. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, wondering how it will end. When. 

They fight for what feels like a small forever, and Sehun absently wishes that Junmyeon was with him, that they were fighting together too. Junmyeon is the most capable agent he’s ever had the good fortune to know, and even if all of this turns to ash, then he will still feel the same. Nothing can change the truth, not even a shift in perspective. Truth is immutable, unchangeable, and it will always come to light. 

The head of Sehun’s staff sprays blue light throughout the air as it shines with power, and Sehun breathes in deeply as he focuses all his energy on a blast. The bubble erupts from deep within him, and around him, a blast of bright gold that pushes all the droids back with effulgent light. They are exploding stars, and Sehun’s eyes ache for a moment as they adjust to the sheer brightness of the sky. 

“Shit,” Kyungsoo says. “That was—fuck, you’re incredible.”

Sehun feels exactly one millisecond of joy before he realizes it was just a flash in the pan. There is no time to rest on the laurels of the moment before. There is no time to feel pride about something swallowed so easily. 

“God,” Sehun says, and he stares out at the sky, rapidly filling. 

“We’re gonna be overwhelmed,” Kyungsoo says, and he is staring at the sky, the droids that pour from deep space. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to hold them back for much longer.” 

Sehun looks around, the ground littered with agents. Their eyes are dead like Minseok’s were, and he closes his eyes. 

“We should go,” Kyungsoo says. “We should go find more survivors.” 

“Do you think there will be more?” He turns, casting spells at the droids rapidfire. “Kyungsoo?” 

He spins around, sees Kyungsoo already hurrying whatever agents he sees towards the bunkers. They’ve never been attacked like this before, the fight’s never been brought to Nirth. Well, certainly not in Sehun’s lifetime. 

“Let’s go,” Kyungsoo says. “Come _on_.” 

Sehun hurries after the group of them, no more than a dozen, and they run through the buildings towards the lifters. Spells fly in red, green, and gold, and all the droids that have managed to breach the building lie dead on the cold metal floors. They’re not helpless. All hope is not lost. They will win. 

“Why isn’t this opening?” Kyungsoo asks, and he frantically pounds on the doors to the lifter. “It’s… it’s malfunctioning.” 

“Hit it with a spell,” one of the agents says, “there’s not much time.” 

“It’ll send the lifter crashing,” Kyungsoo says. “We… we can’t jeopardize this.” 

“Here,” Sehun says, and he sets his staff on the ground, begins the torturous process of prying the doors apart. “ _F-Fuck_.” 

The doors budge only an inch, but by that time, the rest of the agents join in, hands above and below his own as they pull the lifter open. After they get it open just a touch, Sehun is able to shove his fist into the gap, pushing it open the rest of the way. It springs back, and the agents cheer, a small win, before they pile in. Kyungsoo is standing there, holding back the droids that seep in slowly, and Sehun is about to pick up his staff, about to join in the fight. 

It is in that moment that he sees a droid target his staff, lying there between them. The laserbullet explodes on contact, slicing the staff cleanly across the middle. Kyungsoo turns, horrified, and Sehun’s eyes water. 

Kyungsoo turns back to the droids, sends a fury of passionate fire back to rid what’s left of the droids in the room. Sehun stands over his staff, gut-punched, and Kyungsoo holds him by the shoulder after he’s dealt with the rest of the bots. 

“Sehun, I… I’m so sorry.” 

His staff lies there, firmly broken in two. The silverstar arrowhead, once shining and full of life and color, is lifeless now. Dead. Sehun’s heart breaks along with it, but he has no time to mourn. There are more important things waiting for him. 

“It’s okay,” Sehun says, and he nods towards the rest of the agents, standing in the lifter. So close together. “Get them down to the shelters.” 

“You have to come with us,” Kyungsoo says. 

“No,” Sehun says. “I can’t.” 

“You have to. You don’t have… Sehun, your _staff_.” 

“I’ll be okay,” Sehun says. 

“You won’t,” Kyungsoo says, and his eyes water. “You’ll die.” 

“I have to go. I can’t just watch him die.” 

“J-Junmyeon?” 

“He’s out there,” Sehun says. “I have to make sure he’s okay.” 

“You still… you still believe in him,” Kyungsoo says. “After all this?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, defeated. “Always.” 

Kyungsoo looks to the floor, looks back up at Sehun. 

“We were never going to get our happily ever after, were we?” Kyungsoo asks, and a tear falls perfectly down his face. 

“I don’t think so.” 

Kyungsoo sniffs, smiles at him. He sticks out his staff, passes it to Sehun. 

“Take it,” Kyungsoo says. “And… and when we’re finished, when this is all over, I’ll get it back from you.” 

“You shouldn—” 

“If you won’t change your mind, I won’t either,” Kyungsoo says, and he shoves it into Sehun’s hands. 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and he wraps his hands around Kyungsoo’s staff, the power surging through him once more. “Okay, I’ll see you.” 

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says. “I-I’ll message you, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

“Stay safe,” Kyungsoo says, and he twitches, an aborted movement before he sends the lifter screaming down into the bowels of the building. 

He lost Kyungsoo somewhere along the way, and he wishes he could find the time to get to him again. He doesn’t know what happened to them, but he guesses it was because of Junmyeon. He just wishes it wasn’t so black and white, all or nothing. _Maybe after_ , Sehun thinks. _Maybe we could find our way back to where we once were._

Now, he wants to see Junmyeon again. They aren’t blessed with time, though. Not even a bit of it. He’s got to work. He’s got to do as much good as he possibly can before it’s all over. 

“Junmyeon,” he calls. “Are you there?” 

“In the quad,” he says. “We’re outnumbered.” 

“S-Should I go?” Sehun asks. “My staff is broken. It was cut…. I don’t know how much I can do with Kyungsoo’s.” 

“Well, it’s up to you,” Junmyeon says, and he sounds stressed, unraveling. 

It’s never been much of a choice, he doesn’t think. Gut reaction, reflex, Sehun thinks he’ll always pick Junmyeon. He’ll always go to him. He’s always loved him. He always will. They’re the kind of people who are made for each other. 

Sehun goes to him. Follows the blinking light on his bracer even though he knows the way. 

When he gets to the quad, Kyungsoo’s staff tight in his hand, he is amazed by how much it’s changed. 

The turf, once bright, pleasant green, is blackened and charred plastic. The sky is thick with smoke, with golden and scarlet sparks. There are only a handful of agents there, holding up the fight, and for one blessed moment, he allows himself to watch Junmyeon move. He is the only black suit, and he looks the part. 

Blast after blast of magic, blue and gold and green… it becomes a dance, a lovely dance. He spins, the staff whirling over his head as he sends droids to their doom, explosions of red all around him. Sehun stands there in awe, and he regrets not watching Junmyeon more. Not taking the chance. 

Junmyeon locks eyes on him suddenly, and the look on his face is pure relief. Sehun wonders if he’s earned that. 

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” Junmyeon asks, and a little smile splits onto his face. “It’s the apocalypse.” 

Sehun stands next to him. And then, they fight. 

Sehun’s never felt more at home than he does when Junmyeon’s back is against his, when they are shooting droids from the air. The shells of metal clatter to the turf, and they spin, protecting each other, protecting the rest of the agents. Occasionally, there is a shout, a warning. They feed off each other, and it is delicious, feels better than ever before. There, at the end, Sehun feels totally confident. Totally in control because everything is so viciously out of control. His love is fervent, passionate, perfect. 

“You’re fucking amazing,” Junmyeon yells, and a smile splits Sehun’s face. “I love you.” 

Suddenly, though, he does not feel Junmyeon against him. He whips around, turns to face him, and Junmyeon is… retreating. 

“W-Where are you going?” Sehun asks.

“I’ll be right back,” Junmyeon says. “I’m going to find Kyungsoo.” 

“What? Why?” 

“I have to ask him something,” Junmyeon says, and he waves his staff in the air, builds a bubble around the quad, massive and foreboding. “I’ll be back, okay? Don’t leave.” 

“D-Don’t— _Junmyeon_ ,” Sehun says. “Don’t leave. What the fuck are you doing?” 

“I have to,” Junmyeon says. “I have to see.” 

“Please,” Sehun says, and he is near tears, the emotions welling up in him in a wave. “Please, don’t leave. I’m—” 

“Hey, hey.” He goes to Sehun, and he takes Sehun by the face, pulls him together. “It’s okay, right?” 

“No,” Sehun says. “It isn’t.” 

“Why not, huh?” 

“I…,” and it sounds stupid even when he only says it to himself, but being on the edge of the universe makes you honest, “I don’t wanna die alone.” 

Junmyeon looks at him fondly, and it transports Sehun back to their first meeting, the very first time they saw each other. Who knew they would end up here? Who knew they would fall in love like this? 

Junmyeon kisses Sehun softly, and Sehun whines against his mouth. 

“You’re not gonna,” Junmyeon says. “I’m always gonna be here.” 

“You’re leaving,” Sehun says. “You’re _leaving_.” 

“I’m not leaving you.” 

“Junmyeon.” 

“Hey,” Junmyeon says, and he kisses him again, eyes full of light and love. “Trust me.” 

_I do_ , Sehun thinks. _Here, at the end of everything, I trust you._

Sehun watches him go, escaping as the carnage around them grows. It smells like flesh and fire, and Sehun turns around to send as many furious spells as he can up into the sky. If Junmyeon isn’t here, then he is the most senior among the agents, all various shades of light grey, near white. He has to protect them. He has to make sure they get out of this alive. 

He uses everything Junmyeon taught him, and he lets the anger, the passion, the sadness, and the joy pour out of him in waves. Droids shatter, the fragments of metal spiralling out into the air. 

He throws himself in front of some of the agents, protecting them from the laserbullets with a strong dome of gold. The girl and the boy gasp, gasp like it’s their first day on Nirth, and Sehun turns to them, tells them to make their way to the lifter. 

“Get to the bunker,” he says. “Hurry. My friends are waiting for you. They’ll take care of you.” 

“We’ll never make it,” the boy says, and he grabs the girl’s hand. “We don’t know—we don’t know any spells.” 

Sehun’s heart shatters in his chest, and he holds his staff out in front of him. 

“Ready?” Sehun asks. “I’ll show you the most important one, okay?” 

“O-Okay,” the girl says, and she mirrors his posture. 

Sehun closes his eyes. “Take everything you have in your soul. Center it in your body. Feel it. Let yourself feel it. Fear and love and everything in between.” He turns, whips his staff around and sends the killing curse at them, ripped from his throat. A wave of droids around them explodes into the air, and he turns back to the kids. “Do you see?” 

The pair of them look at him like he is sent from the astral plane. He smiles, stares down at their staves. 

“Use them,” he says. “Now, go.” 

They run, hand in hand, dodging and weaving through the mayhem. He watches for a moment, his heart swelling with distant memory, the sort he can’t place in time or space. 

He turns back to the fight, and he wishes that Junmyeon was here. Wishes they could stand back to back like they did in the simulations, protecting each other from harm. It’s too pretty, too pretty for the situation that he finds himself in. He goes back to the fight, and bursts of flames paint his face with heat. 

It goes on for longer than Sehun thought it was able, and the agents that surround him, that aid him, are all extraordinarily capable. He whirls around them, protecting them as they send their killing curses through the air like meteorites, colliding with the metal and making shrapnel rain down onto the blue and gold. They dance around each other, and Sehun finds himself smiling, enjoying the feeling. It is camaraderie. It is friendship amidst chaos. It’s what they were born to do. 

And then, slowly, all the noise comes to a shuddering stop. Sehun turns, about to try and rally them all back to the fight, but he stares open-mouthed at the sky along with the rest of them. 

All the droids have ceased. They hang in the air, a haunting visage, and Sehun stands there for a moment. Staring. He sends a blast of fire at the one nearest to him, imagining that it will spur the others into movement, but it does not work. They are stopped, stuttering. 

Then, he hears the voices. 

_It is the end,_ the voices say. _The destruction stops. It is time._

Sehun looks around, and the agents that are left living breathe a sigh of relief. Sehun cannot share in it, though. He knows his fight is nowhere near over. 

_You’ve wasted so much time,_ the choir of voices sings. _You had every opportunity to join us, but you ignored the signs._

The words practically leap through the air, supernatural and strange as if they were being spoken by the ruler of the astral. 

_We’ve got the book,_ the choir sings. _If you come and find us, we will end this war._

“Who?” an agent screams to the sky. “ _Who_?” 

_Agent 78194. You know where you can find us._

The small group of agents surrounding him turns, and he feels like he carries a disease.

In some sense, he always knew it would end this way. He always knew that it would come down to him. It was always going to be this way. It was always going to be his responsibility. He and… he and Junmyeon, he thinks. 

“I’m going,” Sehun says. “I’ll meet you there if you want. I told you I would. Remember?” 

“ _We will ensure that you reach the destination_ ,” the voices say, and then, a hoard of the droids swarm him, an army staring back at him. “ _Now… run._ ”  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun is out of breath by the time he reaches the door to the underground. The droids behind him fire recklessly, and the laserbullets seep through even the hardened metal. Sehun runs, feels entirely helpless as he runs. They move, and he twists down hallways he’s never seen before, travels to places he’s never been before. 

He is tired, exhausted, feels like he’s been up for so long, but he can’t stop or he’ll die. He can’t stop, or everyone will die. He runs. Runs. Runs. 

He turns, and suddenly, he is staring down a forgotten hallway, and at the end of the hallway, there is a singular door. The laserbullets streak past him, lethal and blue, and he has no more time to think. He runs down the hallway towards the door, and as he looks over his shoulder, he realizes that the droids have stopped. They’ve stopped, he thinks. _Why have they stopped?_

Once he reaches the door, he balls his fist, punches the glass of the reader over and over until the door short-circuits, until the failsafe kicks in and the door slips open. Blood drips from his fingers, shards stuck out of his fist, but he doesn’t even have time to feel the pain. He knows he is fucked, knows that they’re coming for him. 

Junmyeon might be dead. Kyungsoo is probably dead by now too. He stands in the doorway, pausing with time that he doesn’t have, and he stares out, the dimly lit hallway stretching out into forever. He cannot tell how long the hall is, doesn’t know where it leads or what sort of room it opens out to. 

He is totally alone. 

Sehun cautiously steps into the hallway, one single long halogen bulb bisecting the floor, lighting the way. There are large circular capsules, crafted from a shiny silver metal, probably silverstar or an alloy, the width of them greater than his armspan. Their display windows are made of a thick glass, a bulb shining orange at the head of the empty capsules, and Sehun knocks his bloody knuckles against the window of one, leaving his mark. 

He moves on, looks at them curiously as he passes, all of them identical with the same beam of orange light streaming from the head of the tanks. At the foot of each tank, there is a metal label, each as empty as the capsules themselves. He moves, walks forward, stares breathlessly at the dozens of tanks that lie empty in the dimly lit hall. 

Then, it all changes. Then, it all begins to make sense. The Agency, the agents, the triads, and the mysteries. The prophecies leading nowhere and further into nowhere. The looping logic, the monstrosities that just kept appearing. The seven levels of hell, and their terrible curses. His best friend. His lover. Who could he trust? No one. No one. He couldn’t trust any of them. 

The capsules are lit blue, filled with people he knows. Agents he’s seen in the cafeteria, agents he’s seen alive and well, agents that he’s seen deployed, agents he’s seen return with smiles or frowns. And here they are. Here they all are. 

He studies their lifeless faces, tubes at each side of their neck, a digital display of their vital signs. A label at the base of their tanks. _Kim Yerim. Ahn Heeyeon. Lee Jinki. Zhang Yixing. Jung Eunji. Ong Seongwoo. Park Jihyo._ There must be hundreds of them down here. Thousands. He looks at their faces, unconscious and frozen in time. 

What’s happened to them? What has the Agency done to them? 

He hears footsteps at his back, and he tries to picture Junmyeon’s face. Tries to hold Junmyeon’s smile in his mind’s eye. If he’s going to die, he wants to go thinking about something beautiful. 

“Sehun.” 

He turns, eyes wide and ready, and he sees Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, his forehead bloodied. His jacket torn. Kyungsoo. His best friend. A man he once loved with all his heart. Someone he thought he could trust. Someone who he trusted. 

He hurries across to him on instinct, stops short as he realizes what he should have realized long ago. Everything is coming together, slowly, but surely. 

“What happened to your head?” Sehun asks, face twisting into concern. 

Kyungsoo reaches up as though he hadn’t even realized he was bleeding. He brings his hand down in front of his eyes before wiping the blood on his jumpsuit. 

“I got cut,” Kyungsoo says. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“What do you mean?” Kyungsoo asks. “We have to get out of here.” 

“What is this?” Sehun asks. “What’s going on? Where is he? Where’s the—” 

The act is dropped, and Sehun feels it fall to the floor as Kyungsoo’s worry, etched into his skin, floats away into nothingness. 

“They’re not coming,” Kyungsoo says flatly, robotic in his intonation. 

“Why aren’t they coming?” Tears start to fall from his eyes, and he wipes them away. He was never good at this part. Controlling his emotions. Kyungsoo always helped him. “Kyungsoo, tell me what’s going on.” 

“You know what’s going on,” Kyungsoo says. “You’ve always known. Because he never stopped telling you, did he?” 

“ _J-Junmyeon_?” 

“He is a threat.” Kyungsoo looks him up and down. “He was always a threat. Just as you were. Ever since the accident.” 

“Stop,” Sehun says. “Please.” 

“Do you know what really happened that day?” 

“Yes,” Sehun says. “Yes, and you do, too.” 

“No,” Kyungsoo says easily. “No, you don’t. But I do.” 

His throat hurts. 

“Stop.” 

“You always believed the best in people,” Kyungsoo says, and as his lips move, Sehun realizes that it is not Kyungsoo, that it’s never been Kyungsoo. He never would have talked to Sehun like this. Never would have made him feel so small. So weak. “You never question. You never think.” 

It’s not him. Sehun knows it now. It’s never been him. 

“Don’t,” Sehun pleads. “Please, don’t.” 

“If it looks like a duck,” Kyungsoo smiles, “and it sounds like a duck…” 

“Kyungsoo…” 

“You were so traumatized,” Kyungsoo taunts. “It was so easy to make you think I lived. No one even had to wipe your memory. You’re just so… _suggestible._ ” 

“Please. Please, tell me you’re lying. Please just stop.” 

“I’m not doing anything, but you know that by now, don’t you?” Kyungsoo says, grinning menacingly at Sehun. “Agent 78193, given name _Do Kyungsoo_ , was obliterated on Sovilia by the Night Mare on oh-two, oh-four, year 2526. I am a RAPA unit, a remote access processor agent. You see, I _am_ the Agency, and I was sent to make sure that both you and Agent 78182, given name Kim Junmyeon, either capitulated or were destroyed.” 

Little parts of him chip off like flakes of dead skin. 

“W-Why let me live this long?” Sehun asks, and the tears stream down his face in rivers. “Why let me get this close?” 

“Close?” And the hideous unit, Kyungsoo’s face twisted horribly, laughs. “Who said anything about _close_?” 

And then, just like that, everything falls away. Blocks and polygons drop from the sky, the picture of the hallway, of Kyungsoo, of everything… destroyed. Sehun looks around in horror, tries to find himself something to hang on to, an anchor to reality, but the world is black and blue, h-grams that made his world collapsing like crumbling stones. 

Skin drips away from Kyungsoo, his skin and his hair, his organs and everything else. It is horrific and terrible. Sehun has seen a great many things, and this, the disintegration and dissolution of the person he loved— _loves still_... it is by far the worst thing he’s ever seen. It hits him where it hurts. His heart. 

Then suddenly, there is nothing left of Kyungsoo, just the vague metal framework of a body, a CPU in his chest. He’s seen rough droids like this once before. In studies. And then he remembers. The reader Junmyeon gave him. Interviews with the Agency. 

How was he always so far behind Junmyeon? How did he manage to fall so deeply in love with him and still not realize how incomprehensibly good he was? 

It is not Kyungsoo’s voice that pours out of the RAPA. It is the voice of a director. One of them. 

“We are everything,” she says, and Sehun stares around at the endless black expanse of space. “We are inside your head. We are endless, boundless.” She laughs snidely, a dizzying sound. “You fool. You absolute _fool_.” 

“No,” Sehun cries, and he wipes his face, wipes the wetness away. “No, I’m not a fool.” 

“You are,” she tells him. “Because you let yourself think for even _one instant_ that you are in control.” She has the voice of a snake, venomous and mean. “You have never been in control. Your whole life… all of it… a careful construction. All for this. All to see what would happen if you got to this point. If you managed to get this far.” 

“Stop,” Sehun says. “Please, stop.” 

“There is no stopping this. All that there is is acceptance. Acceptance or disloyalty.” She makes the android smile, and it is sickening and strange. “You’ve always been so good. We had such high hopes for you, Agent.” She stretches out her hand, and for a terrible moment, Sehun thinks about taking it. “Go on. You know, deep down inside yourself, that you want to be controlled. You want to be told what to do. What to think.” 

_No_ , Sehun thinks. _No, I know better than that. Junmyeon made me realize that I am more than that. I am more than a follower. I can lead myself, and even if that’s it, then it will have meant something. It will have been for the best._

He is left thinking about Junmyeon, what happens to him now. Are they dead? Is none of this real? He doesn’t know. Doesn’t know what to think anymore. Everything has been a lie, masterful in construction. But Junmyeon… wasn’t that real? Even in simulation, wasn’t that love true? 

If he is to keep living, if he is to soldier on as he’s always done, he has to believe it was. 

Sehun bats the claw of the RAPA away from him, but he is greeted by a sneer. 

“Fickle,” she scolds. “Fickle and stupid.” 

“No,” Sehun argues. “And if I am fickle, if I am stupid, then I’m glad because at least I’m not you. At least I’m not whatever you are.” 

“You don’t know what I am,” she says. “You don’t know what _you_ are.” 

And then, just like that, everything unplugs, and Sehun is dead.  
  


♄

  
  
When he first opens his eyes, he sees more darkness than he thought was possible. He shuts his eyes again, blinking, and he realizes that the room is _impossibly_ dark. Like there’s a black hole hung above him, sucking all light and matter into thin stretches of nothing. 

Was it a dream? No. It couldn’t have been. He remembers everything. Every little bit of it. The way Junmyeon tasted. The way they laughed. Horror and love, all bleeding into one mess of color. That was his life. A gradient of those. 

His wrists are tied down at opposite sides of him, as are his ankles. He is fastened to the table upon which he lays. He begins to struggle, tries to wiggle out of the binds, but they are tight and seemingly unbreakable. Metal and harsh against him. 

There is a bright red flash above his head, and it blinks red, red, red. Sehun uses the light to look around him. He sees wires. Display screens. It looks so much less… clean. So much dirtier than what he’s used to. 

He is naked save for a pair of briefs, and his head fucking swims with the new sensory information. _Think quickly_ , he says to himself. _That’s what Junmyeon would want me to do._

Immediately he searches for anything that could possibly release the cuffs at his hands and feet, but in the blinking red light, all he can see are monitors that say something in a language that he doesn’t know. _Where am I, and what have they done to me?_

He sees a staff in the corner of the room, simple and organic. Wooden, he thinks. Maybe a tree branch. He closes his eyes. Practices. _Come to me_ , he thinks. _My heart is open._

Quickly, he calls the staff to him, but with his hands tied down, he can only grip it in one hand. He can’t think, can’t focus, but he needs to. Think. Focus. The red light is screaming silently above him, and it makes him panic. Makes him think of clocks counting down. Of time running out. 

He thinks of ropes untethering and locks popping open, of being cut loose. Sawing at ties. Within the next second, whether the bindings are metal or fabric, they fall to the table. He sits up, rubs at his wrists. _One small victory_ , he thinks to himself. But then, he panics. 

The red light, it bleeds out over the room. And he can read only one word on the monitor overhead. _Unfit._

He blinks, the sleep still dripping from his eyes, and that is when the hushed sound begins to quietly seep out. Sehun furiously looks for the source of the sound, but he does not need to look for long. Beneath him, beneath the table, there is a hydraulic machine and slowly, it pushes the head of the table up until Sehun is scrambling to stay on it, stay upright. Then, at his feet, the seam of a door slips open, and he only has a split second to think because within the blink of an eye, the force of the pressure begins to suck him violently into the cold black of space. 

Heart in his mouth, hands shaking, he casts a halting charm from the staff, the pressure momentarily stabilized in what he now realizes to be an airlock. He leaps down from the table, moves over carefully, presses and taps at the monitors until he can navigate to the manual controls. He shuts the hatch, able to breathe again, and the lights come up, yellow and old. He looks around, studies the machinery. It seems like life support, like they were keeping him alive through stasis. He wonders. Wonders. 

There is a set of clothes, yellow linen so pale it looks white, and Sehun hurriedly shrugs them on, pants and then shirt. They are loose, but they fit, and he wonders if this is what he was brought in. 

When did he get here? What—what’s been real? 

The nest of wires along the floor should be a fire hazard, and he cautiously kicks his way through. He walks to the door. What will greet him on the other side? Some kind of monstrosity? Some… some infantryman looking for his staff? 

He summons all of the energy that he has left, shaking with nerves, and he hits the button, the wooden staff raised, the door slowly slipping open. 

Instead of a monstrosity, a droid, anything, he is met with emptiness. He lowers the staff, peeking around the corners. The metal of the ship interior is just as rusted as his room was. It’s cold, not temperature regulated, he doesn’t think, and he looks around cautiously. Could this be another part of their terrible test? Could he… could he still be asleep? _That’s the thing about simulations_ , Sehun thinks to himself, the sludgy feeling of loneliness creeping up into his stomach. _There’s no way of knowing what’s real._

Then and there, Sehun knows that he must develop a plan. Find something. Find anything. And go from there. That’s what Junmyeon would do. 

_Junmyeon_ , he thinks, and he yearns for the early days, days spent under the bright light of the stars, lying next to each other on the quad. _I wish we could go back there. I wish I could go back and tell myself that I would fall for you, that I should trust you, that none of it was real so nothing really mattered. Nothing but us._

Angry tears fill his eyes as he waves his staff, a quieting spell cast over his feet. He walks silently through the ship, the corridors thin as if there was only ever one person traveling at a time. He walks until he finds something of note. He passes rooms with doors smaller even than the one from which he emerged, and when he looks inside, all he finds is machinery, things to keep the ship running. The nerves jump under his skin as he walks in a great circle, moving through the exterior of the ship. _Maybe I am here by myself_ , Sehun thinks. _Maybe I am all alone._

Then, he finds it. A room that looks exactly like his own. Hope leaps into his eyes, seeping through his skin as he presses the button for entry. 

The room is white with light, and Sehun looks inside, finds the interior much the same as the cell he woke inside. There is a figure on the table, dark hair, and Sehun’s heart stops in his chest. He steps forward, brushing wires out of the way with his feet. 

He approaches the table, hands squeezing around the wood of the staff, all manner of emotion swirling into glittering nebulas inside him. Softly, softly, he steps forward, and then, he is standing over a body. If the machines weren’t humming, if he wasn’t stuck with nodes and tubes, if his vitals weren’t well-documented, Sehun would think he was dead. 

But he isn’t. Sehun’s eyes fill with tears. 

Junmyeon is alive. 

He reaches forward, brushes his hand against Junmyeon’s cheek, and just like that, Junmyeon’s eyes open. Sehun stumbles back, startled, nearly tripping over the nest of wires. 

Junmyeon’s hands come to his neck, and as he rips the tubes from his neck, the white light goes red. 

“Hey,” Junmyeon says. 

“H-Hey.” 

“Wh-What’s happening?” Junmyeon asks sleepily. “What are we doing?” 

“I’m waking you up,” Sehun says. “We’re not… the Agency—”

Junmyeon sits up, still woozy with sleep, and he leans up on his elbows. Sehun’s eyes scan down his body. He looks exactly the same as Sehun remembers him. Exactly the same except for the color of his hair. He watches as Junmyeon observes their surroundings, the room claustrophobic, the lights blinking red over them. _Unfit_ , the display reads. _Unfit_. 

Sehun hurriedly raises his staff, blasts a beam of light to the machinery, and Junmyeon barely blinks as it decimates everything. The blinking red light ceases, plunges them into darkness. In the black, Sehun takes a moment to think before he lights the head of the wooden staff, ablaze with blue and white. 

“Seems excessive,” Junmyeon comments. 

“It was either that or the vacuum of deep space,” Sehun says. 

“I choose excess.” Junmyeon offers him a smile. “Do you think… were we in the same dream?”

“Can you call that a dream?” Sehun asks. 

Junmyeon bites his lip. “Sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“For everything. In there.”

“N-No,” Sehun says. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I should be apologizing to you.” 

“Nah. You shouldn’t.” Another charming smile. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Now that apologies have been volleyed, we have to get out of here,” Junmyeon says, and that’s why Sehun loves him so fucking much. “Where do we go?” 

“I don’t know.”

“How did you wake up?” Junmyeon asks. 

“I think I… I think I died,” Sehun says, and the panic rises back up in his mouth. “I think they’re going to kill us now. Or… I think we should have already been killed.” 

“Hey, it’s… it’s fine,” Junmyeon says, and he sits up all the way, rips the rest of the wires away from his body. “Clothes?” 

Sehun whips around, grabs the linen shirt and pants from the shelf. By the time Sehun turns back to Junmyeon, he is standing. Sehun hands him the clothes, watching as he quickly throws them on, hanging off his body. 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says, and he rubs his fingers against the leftover adhesive at his neck. “Plan?” 

“I don’t have a plan,” Sehun whispers. “I don’t know what’s going on.” 

Junmyeon looks around for a moment, tapping at whatever screens are left after Sehun’s destruction. They are old, outdated tech, and they don’t respond to his touch. The light at the staff pulses, fills the room with cool white light, and Sehun tries to put it all together. 

“We gotta go,” Junmyeon whispers. “They’re gonna figure out we’re awake.” 

“Who?” 

“ _They_ ,” Junmyeon shrugs. “Whoever is holding us here. Whoever _brought us here_. They. There’s always a they.” He smiles at Sehun. “Haven’t you got that yet?” 

Sehun finds it hard not to smile when Junmyeon is smiling at him, so even though he feels like they are once again clinging to life, he is able to smile. Feel joy. _This is worth living for._

“R-Right. Where do we go?” 

Junmyeon looks around, biting his lip. He slams his fist on the black button at the door, grinning smally as the thing splits open. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Junmyeon says, and he offers Sehun his hand. “The last thing I remember, I was backed into a corner. I remember thinking your name. Trying to remember your face. And then you touched me, and I… I woke up.” 

Sehun’s throat goes tight as he takes Junmyeon’s hand, passes him the wooden staff. 

“Here,” Sehun says. “I found it, and you’re better with magic than I am.” 

“No,” Junmyeon says, trying to pass the staff back to Sehun. “You’re just as good.” 

But Sehun won’t have it, even though it fills him with a pride that only Junmyeon can bestow upon him. 

“No, there’s no time for being humble.” 

Junmyeon smiles, tightening his hand as they walk through the door into the tight hallway. 

They wander, but they wander together, and there is a comfort in that that Sehun didn’t have before. Junmyeon takes his natural position, leading Sehun through the darkness, and Sehun’s stomach, once churning with worry, calms slowly. They have each other. They can do anything. 

They reach a fork, a left and a right path, and Junmyeon moves decisively, moves like he’s been here before. Sehun admires him for it, the way he can do anything and make it seem like he’s done it a thousand times. 

Down the right corridor, there are more doors like the ones they’ve seen before. Sehun keeps his grip on Junmyeon tight until suddenly, Junmyeon halts in front of one door that looks a lot like the rest to Sehun’s untrained eye. 

“Come on,” Junmyeon says, gesturing with the staff in his hand, “through here.” 

“How do you know?” Sehun asks. 

“I dunno,” Junmyeon says. “Just a feeling.” 

The door slides open, rust at the seams and edges, and Junmyeon leads the way as they walk down another dimly lit hallway that stinks of rotten organic material, old metal, and dust. Sehun aims to find his footing, but the hallway shakes as they walk, the ship thrumming underneath them. 

There is a locker, and Junmyeon opens it. Several personal items, clothes… a knife. A belt. 

“Bingo,” Junmyeon says, and he passes the staff back to Sehun, grabs the weapon. He starts to look through the belongings, grabs the thick leather belt and winds it around his waist before slipping the knife into one of the holsters. “Okay, so there’s someone else here. At least… at least one person.” 

Sehun looks around. “They must be here.” He looks to Junmyeon. “Right?” 

“Almost certainly,” Junmyeon says. He steps forward into Sehun’s space. “How do you feel?” 

“Uh, bad?” 

Junmyeon rolls his eyes. “About me.” 

“We’re doing this here and now? Of all times and places?” 

“Just wanted to know. Just in case,” Junmyeon smiles. “I love you.” 

Sehun bites his lip before he steps forward, pressing his lips to Junmyeon’s. 

“I love you,” Sehun says, “I think.” 

“Ah, you’re so… _you_ about things,” Junmyeon says. “I love that.” 

Heat flares through Sehun’s stomach, and he thinks that, no matter what happened, no matter where they go or who they’re told they are, they will always love each other. Nothing can ever erase love like this. Nothing can ever make you forget. 

Suddenly, the door opens, and a man, dressed in a black jumpsuit, stares at them. Gawking. 

“Fucking _bitch_ ,” the man curses, and he looks to the staff in Sehun’s hand, the knife in Junmyeon’s, a wry smile on his face. “You’re _supposed_ to be dead.” 

“Yeah, well, tough luck,” Junmyeon says. 

Junmyeon nods to the chains hanging from one of the shelves, and with no hesitation, Sehun leaps into action. He turns around the man, looping the chains around his arms and the arms of the chair, around his body and the back of the chair before hooking them closed. Junmyeon nods when Sehun is finished, and Sehun steps back, unsure of what they do next. Where they go from here. 

“Who are you?” Junmyeon asks. “What are we doing here?” 

“You really don’t get it do you,” the man says, and he looks over at them with blasé confidence. “How did you escape?” 

Junmyeon steps forward, showing him the glinting edge of the knife. 

“Answer us,” Junmyeon says. “What are we doing here? Where are we?” 

The man tilts his jaw up, stares at Junmyeon down his nose like he’s better than them. Like he’s got a choice in the matter. Junmyeon steps forward again, presses the blade against the man’s throat. 

“I’ve officially got nothing to lose,” Junmyeon says, “so you can play along, or you can die.” 

The man thinks it over for a minute like he doesn’t care one way or another, and Sehun wonders about who he is. Where he came from. What he believes. He can’t imagine not caring. 

“Testing facility,” the man says. “You were running through simulations to see if you were—” 

And then he pauses. A long, hot pause. 

“Were what?” 

“We experimented with rewrites,” the man says, and he struggles against the chains around him, but Junmyeon presses the tip of his knife to the man’s jugular. “Don’t be testy, just—” 

“Talk,” Sehun commands. “What happened to us? Where were we? Before all of this.” 

A joy like sunrise dawns on the man’s face, eyes wide and happy. 

“It worked,” the man says, awed. 

“Tell us how to get out of here,” Sehun says, panic rising in his throat. “Tell us where to go.” 

“Where to _go_?” the man laughs. “There’s nowhere to _go_. You’re stuck here. Until you die.”

In the span of those short few words, Sehun realizes that they will get nowhere with this man. 

He looks to Junmyeon, sees immediately that they are on the same page. It is perhaps the first time in their lives, he thinks with a smile. 

Without another word, Junmyeon takes his life, and Sehun stares at him as the blood pours out over his hands, over the dirty metal floor. 

“We have to go,” Junmyeon says, and he tucks the knife back to his belt. “Before they find us. Whoever else is here. There’s gotta be a… a superior or someone.” 

It is moving too fast, they are moving too quickly, and Sehun just wants to halt things under their feet. He didn’t get a chance to hug him, embrace him for a while. Didn’t get a chance to tell him that he loves him. Loves him for real. That he’s truly sorry. That he doesn’t know what’s happening but that he _loves_ him, _knows_ he loves him. Even here. Even now. Wherever. Whenever. Always. 

“J-Junmyeon,” he says suddenly, and Junmyeon turns back to face him. “I’m sorry, it’s not the time, I just—” 

“Say it,” Junmyeon says. “There’s never gonna be a good time.” 

Sehun swallows thickly, steels his nerves. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

“I thought we did the apologies. You don’t need to apologize,” Junmyeon says. “They were trying to make it hard for you.” 

“I just—”

“Hey,” Junmyeon says, and he takes Sehun’s face in his hands. “We’ve got each other. Do we need anything else?” 

“No,” Sehun says, and Junmyeon wraps his arms around Sehun’s body suddenly, crushing him in an embrace. “I… I love you.” 

“Now you know for sure?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Now I know.” 

“I just murdered someone,” Junmyeon snorts. 

“I dunno,” Sehun says, “seems like he deserved it.” 

Junmyeon smiles at him, and the grin spreads open beautifully. Sehun has no choice but to kiss him, show him just how much he loves him. It’s strange, thinking that their bodies have never known each other like this and it still feels so second nature to him. They relax into it. It feels just as good as it always did, always does. Sehun kisses him, hands at his waist, fingers stroking against the soft skin. 

“Come on,” Junmyeon whispers, “we have to go.” 

Sehun makes a soft noise. “I don’t want to go.” 

“Let’s get a ship,” Junmyeon says, the words humming against Sehun’s mouth. “Let’s get a ship, and we’ll go as far away from here as possible. We’ll find some forgotten planet, and we’ll spend the rest of our days there. Just eating and sleeping and _fucking_.” 

Sehun smiles against Junmyeon’s lips, presses another kiss to his mouth. 

“Deal,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon pulls Sehun off by the hand, and they walk down the rusted halls, leading further and further into nowhere. It feels like it’s haunted by spirits. They pass by empty rooms, the lights warm, the beds bare. 

“It’s empty,” Junmyeon says. “Why is it so… empty?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun whispers. “Sh-Shouldn’t there be, like, people milling around? Keeping an eye on things?” 

“You’d think.” He looks at the doors along the hall, rusted metal at the joinings, the nameplates passing by them easily. “You’d think there would be more people in the beds.” 

“I wonder where they all went,” Sehun says, and then he gets a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Maybe they… maybe they failed too.” 

They pass by room after room. Empty, empty, empty. 

“How could they justify all that?” Junmyeon asks. “All that death?” 

“They can’t,” Sehun says. “But that wouldn’t stop them from trying.” 

Junmyeon squeezes Sehun’s hand in his. “My little freedom fighter.” 

“Sorry it took me so long to realize.” 

“Brainwashing can happen to anyone.” 

“It didn’t happen to you,” Sehun says. 

“Well, I’m very special,” Junmyeon grins, and Sehun hip-checks him. “This is the thanks I get? For making sure you didn’t blindly walk into the clutches of a totalitarian regime?” 

Sehun rolls his eyes. “Thank you, thank you.” 

“You’re gonna be saying that for the rest of our lives,” Junmyeon says. “ _Oh, Junmyeon, good morning, thank you for making sure that we didn’t accidentally become fascists._ ” 

“I’m planning on dying on this ship,” Sehun deadpans, and Junmyeon smacks him with the back of his hand. 

“We’re gonna find our way,” Junmyeon says, and he turns, and when Sehun locks eyes with him, he looks more serious than he ever has, like this is something that Sehun can take anywhere he wants. “Promise.” 

It doesn’t take long for them to exhaust all possible options. They find a loading bay, they find a small closet for necessities. Sehun looks through stacks of cloths, towels. Finds it all very confusing. 

“What were they doing here?” 

Junmyeon looks around as they move through the halls. 

“Studying us?” Junmyeon wonders. “Something like that.” 

“Couldn’t they have studied us in other circumstances?” Sehun asks. 

“You know the Agency,” Junmyeon says. “They like drama.” 

“You too,” Sehun says. 

“You don’t know that for sure.” He couples it with a smile. “Like, are we the same people that we were in the simulation?” 

“I think you are.” 

Junmyeon looks at him. “I think you are too.”  
  


♄

  
  
After about an hour, they find a door they haven’t seen before. Sehun is the one who actually finds it, a strange door without a label, as if everyone who ever saw it would know what it was. 

“This has to be something,” Sehun says, and he runs his fingers along the seam of the double-doors, wondering what’s behind them. 

“Oh yeah,” Junmyeon says, and he moves to stand beside Sehun. “This is something.” 

“How are we gonna get it open?” Sehun asks. Junmyeon stares at him like he’s deranged before looking down at the staff in his hand. “Oh. Good idea.” 

“I swear,” Junmyeon says, shaking his head. “If you didn’t have me…” 

“I know,” Sehun says, smiling back at him. “I know.” 

He sends a blast of magic towards the outdated reader, and it short-circuits. 

As soon as the doors spring open, it is immeasurably clear what room they’ve found: the Control Room. 

There is a large screen at the forefront of the room, and from the screen, machines and panels stretch all the way back in a half circle. It buzzes with noise, and there are thousands, maybe millions of buttons across the dash, each coded and colored. 

There is a chair, a simple desk chair like Sehun’s seen in old history readers. Slowly, the chair spins, reveals an older, slight man with bright blue eyes, haunting blue eyes. He smiles at the two of them, the pair of them. It’s as though he expected them. 

“Come in, come in,” he waves, and he spins back around in his seat, turning his back to them. “I’m sure you’ve got lots of questions.” 

“T-Turn back around,” Junmyeon commands. “Face us.” 

“Oh, don’t be silly,” the man says. “If you plan to kill me, you can do it now before you get what you want, or you can do it after. Makes no difference to me.” 

Junmyeon stands there, looks at Sehun. Sehun raises his brows as if to say _he’s right_ , and Junmyeon steps forward. 

“Where are we?” 

“Holding ship,” the man answers, and he taps a few buttons on the keyboard closest to him, red, then green, then black. “Testing ship.” 

“What are you testing?” Junmyeon asks.

The man only laughs in response, and Sehun can see the way Junmyeon is seething at his side. He puts his hand on the small of Junmyeon’s back, hoping that tiny action will help. 

“Who are you?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Who am _I_?” He laughs. “I’m a director, of course.” He spins back just a touch, looks at them over his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you hadn’t figured _that_ out.” 

“Tell us everything, or we’ll kill you now,” Junmyeon says. “D-Don’t test us. We already—” 

“Killed the boy,” the director says. “Yes, I’m well aware. I watched the footage.” 

He quickly navigates to a video capture, grainy and grey, and the three of them watch as Junmyeon slits the man’s throat, steps back. 

“You always possessed that quality,” the director says, almost in awe. 

“What quality?” Junmyeon asks. 

“ _Do what needs to be done_ ,” the director says. “You were prized. Once.” 

“Stop,” Sehun says. “Just tell us… tell us from the beginning.” 

“The whole story?” the director says, and he leans back in his seat, whirling around. “I don’t know that I’ve time for all that.” 

“You’ve got as much time as we say you do,” Junmyeon says. 

The man shudders in his chair. “Terrifying. You are a force to be reckoned with, Agent.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Junmyeon says. “Tell us why… why we’re being held.” 

“You are agents. You make up the illustrious, world-class Agency,” the director says. “And you were two of our best.” 

“Cut the bullshit,” Sehun says suddenly, the words ripped from his chest. “Just tell us what was going on… with the atrocities. With the necronomicon.” 

“You’ve certainly found your voice, Agent,” the director praises. “We knew he would be an influence on you, but to this extent. He is a marvel, isn’t he?” 

“Why are we _here_?” Junmyeon interrupts, rage and fire and blood. 

“People were dying,” the director says, suddenly furious, like they’ve finally worked through the hardened exterior of him. “Left and right, dropping like flies. It was… it was catastrophic. Nightmarish. The way the universe was gouged. Over and over again, even without any blood to spill. The things you’ve seen… they were ripped from reality. We put them into the machines, recreated them for you. Tell me, were they easy to face? No. No, they were difficult. And they were wiping us away. All of us. Humanity, other races. It was nothing but devastation.”

“So, what, you preserved us?” Junmyeon asks. “Training us in a simulation until it was time to actually deploy us against something?” 

“You’re making it seem careless.” 

“Wasn’t it?” Junmyeon presses. 

“It was anything but.” 

“J— _how_ was this the first solution?” Sehun wonders. 

“ _First solution_ ,” the man scoffs. “First? This was the _last_ solution. We tried. Took volunteers. Took as many as we could. And believe it or not, people came in droves. We banded together. Learned from each other and tried. Really _tried_. And it still wasn’t enough. Nothing was.” 

“None of this matters,” Junmyeon says flatly. “You held us without our consent.” The man scoffs again. “What? What’s so funny?” 

“Gods, they were right.” The man leans back in his chair, folds his arms across his chest. He nods towards the console. “Go on. Check the records.” 

“Records of what?” Sehun asks. 

“We kept records of everything,” the man tells them. “Every single thing. Your arrival dates, your genetics, your aptitude as children. Everything. Down to measurements.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

The man moves suddenly, and Sehun meets him, the end of the staff directed towards the man’s jugular. 

“One second,” the man says. “Let me show you.” 

Junmyeon looks to Sehun, like he’s asking for permission. Neither of them know what to do. Doesn’t know what the correct course of action is, and yet… 

“Go ahead,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun lowers the staff slowly. “But don’t try anything.” 

The man smiles, and he pulls himself over towards the console that wraps around him. He works expertly, and in the matter of a few seconds, they are staring at a picture of Sehun except… younger. Much younger. His hair is short, shorn at the sides. He looks happy, and… Sehun’s heart aches for reasons unknown when he stares at this version of himself. 

“You were raised in a farm ship,” the man says, and he points towards the digital readouts. “See? Same one. Oh Sehun. Chronos-826.” He navigates to Junmyeon’s file, a younger looking Junmyeon staring back at them for a second. He scrolls down, points to the same words. “Kim Junmyeon. Chronos-826.” 

“A farm?” 

“Small ship,” the man tells them. “We created you. Harvested the necessities from breeders, of course. You were born and lived and you could have died on that ship if you wanted to.” He nods towards the display, and he presses a couple buttons. A new screen appears. “Look. Your grades. Physical fitness. Muscular endurance, cardiovascular endurance, strength, flexibility, speed. Mental agility. Neuroplasticity. Emotional intelligence. Only the best of the best are eligible for the agency program.” 

Sehun lets his eyes glaze over as the numbers spin by. 

“S-So…” Junmyeon starts, shell-shocked. 

“So you _chose_ to be here,” the man says. “And if you haven’t figured it out yet, it’s a _privilege_ , not a right.” 

“No,” Junmyeon says. “I… I never would have chosen to be here. I never would have… I never would pick this. I would rather die.” 

“Do you want to see the consent forms?” the man asks, and he turns back to the console, highlights, presses, taps until a series of pictures pop up. Files. Words, words, hundreds, maybe thousands of them, and there at the bottom… Junmyeon’s signature. The man turns to Sehun. “You wanna see yours too? It doesn’t matter. I’ve got the copies, of course.” 

“W-Why would we—why?” 

“You saw the merit in defending goodness,” the man says, stressing the words like he means them, like he _actually_ means them. “You saw your own usefulness, your own ability, and knew, implicitly, that you had a purpose. A service to provide.” 

“And we’ve been serving ever since,” Junmyeon says. “Is that right?” 

“Up until your dissent,” the man says. He stares at them, disappointed. “And now… well, I’m sure you’ll do something rash, as is your wont.” 

“Don’t say that like you fucking know us.” 

“ _Know you_? Please,” the man scoffs. “I’ve raised you since you were sixteen years old. All those memories of your home planet, your parents, your siblings. The destruction you saw.” The director laughs. “I _made_ you. I created you from dust. This person, this soul you think you possess. I plucked it from the stars. I gave you what you needed.” 

“You think very highly of yourself,” Junmyeon says. 

“And why shouldn’t I?” the director asks, and he leans in towards Junmyeon. “See, I’m very much like you. I’ve always done what needed to be done.” 

Sehun reaches his breaking point, shaking with anger. “What needed to be done? Creating us? Wiping our memories? Giving us new ones? Not… Not giving us a chance at normalcy?” 

“ _Normalcy_ ,” the man spits. “You don’t understand anything. You don’t have the mental capacity.” 

“Oh, shut up. You sound just as awful as we know you are.” 

“Don’t you get it? _We’re_ the good ones. We were trying to save humanity as we know it. We needed unfaltering, unfailing loyalty. That’s what we’ve always sought.” 

“How many of us are there left?” Junmyeon asks blankly. 

The director looks down to his hands at the keyboard, and they sink into his lap. 

“How many?” Junmyeon presses. 

“Three dozen,” the director says. 

“And the rest?” Junmyeon asks. “What, they failed the testing? Didn’t show enough loyalty? Couldn’t withstand the mental and emotional torture so they were disposed of?” 

“You don’t understand. Couldn’t understand, of course,” the director says. “We risked everything. We _gave everything._ It’s more complicated than you could ever imagine.” 

“You know what the least complicated thing in the world is?” Junmyeon asks, and he looks at Sehun, nods. Without another sound, Sehun cuts the man’s throat with the staff, lets him choke out his final breaths in pitiful sputtering red. 

Sehun watches it play out, and he can’t even muster up horror. His whole adult life has been this. Has he ever known anything besides this ship, dirty and old? Has he… has he ever been held by another person? Was Junmyeon the first person he ever spoke to? He’s got nothing, no memories. 

“We need to see how many more people are on this ship. How many are still actually alive,” Junmyeon says, and there is a little crack in his voice. 

If Sehun didn’t know him better, he wouldn’t have picked up on it, but Sehun knows him better than anyone now. He is scared. Sehun knows why. 

“There’s no one here,” Sehun says. “It’s just us.” 

“No,” Junmyeon says, “he said three dozen.” 

“I don’t think he meant three dozen here,” Sehun says blankly, the terror finally settling in his heart. “I think he meant three dozen _total_.” 

Junmyeon looks down. “What are we gonna do if it’s just us?” 

“I dunno.” 

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” 

“I mean I don’t know,” Sehun says. “Why, do you have some master plan that you feel like clueing me in on?” 

“You know I don’t.” 

“Then, let’s not… let’s not make things difficult. Let’s focus,” Sehun says. 

“We should talk about this,” Junmyeon says. “We should figure us out.” 

“Junmyeon, I don’t know if this is the time,” Sehun says. “W-We fell in love in a simulation, we thought we were close to death when we weren’t, a-and who knows if they didn’t put us together _on purpose_?” 

“Don’t make this more complicated than it is. It was real. Even if it wasn’t… _real_ , it was still you. It was still me,” Junmyeon says. “Do you love me? You do, don’t you?” 

“I wasn’t me then,” Sehun says. “I don’t know, I—”

“Kiss me,” Junmyeon orders, and Sehun leaps forward like he’s drawn by fate or something impossibly stronger. 

He takes Junmyeon in his arms, crushes their mouths together as if it is the end of their shared existence. He tastes starlight and songs as they kiss, as they knit their frayed edges back together again. _It doesn’t matter where we are, where we go. Who we are, what combination of molecules and genetic material mixes to make us. We’ll always be this. We will always have this._

He licks along the seam of Junmyeon’s lips, his hands on his neck, and when they part, Junmyeon is smiling, a memory from a simulation. 

“Just like you remember?” Junmyeon teases. 

“B-Better, maybe,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon rolls his eyes as he pulls Sehun down by the back of his neck, meeting him once again in a silly, uncomplicated dance of love. 

“It’s all the same,” Junmyeon whispers as he presses kisses across Sehun’s face. “It’s all the same. We’re still us. I’m still me, and you’re still you.” 

“W-What about…” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Junmyeon says. “None of it matters except for this.” 

“The universe,” Sehun says, and Junmyeon presses a chaste kiss to the center of Sehun’s lips. “What do we do?” 

Junmyeon pulls back, looking into Sehun’s eyes. There is indelible light inside of him, and Sehun will never know how it got there, only knows that he is thankful it rests in someone so deserving. 

“What do we do? Don’t play dumb,” Junmyeon smiles. “We do whatever we _can_ do.”  
  


♄

  
  
They search the place up and down, and Sehun keeps a map in his head. The man’s story is corroborated by what they find. There is little besides what it would take to operate the mission. Curiously, there are hundreds of holding rooms like the ones they were kept in, but each and every one is empty, left forgotten, the tech rusting over, the nests of wires on the floor like dead snakes. 

It is haunting, smells like ghosts, and tears well in his eyes as they explore together, hand in hand. Junmyeon pulls him through the empty halls, leading them further and further into nothing. There is nothing of interest. 

“Maybe we can find a ship,” Junmyeon says, and he leads Sehun back whence they came, back to the control room. “Maybe they’ve got a way to open the gates.” 

The director on the floor is a gruesome sight to return to, and though Sehun has seen much violence in his lifetime, in all his lifetimes, nothing comes close to this. The stench of copper. His open eyes. He gets a flash of dead, open eyes. Eyes that never existed in this reality, but still feel so very real. So true. 

“Asshole,” Junmyeon curses, and he kicks the man’s lifeless arm as he passes, making his way to the large control panel now left dormant, and Sehun follows closely behind. 

He’s never seen an operating system like the one they have, a half-circle sprinkled with buttons with labels in a language they can’t understand. He watches as Junmyeon’s eyes scan over the controls hungrily, and Sehun flicks his eyes up to look at the readout screen like something might reveal itself to him. _No such luck_ , Sehun thinks. They’re on their own. 

Junmyeon, on the other hand, picks things up fast. Always has, always will. He finds a strip of buttons, navigates to the largest on the left, and presses it quickly. 

The system wakes, and Sehun is momentarily shocked by how _old_ it looks. The screen is black, and the letters are green. _Password_ , it reads, and there is a series of sixteen boxes, the first blinking like a cursor. 

Junmyeon stares down at the keyboard, the symbols. 

“Oh,” Junmyeon says. “W-Well, maybe…” 

He turns, looks at the body of the commander. 

“Maybe he’s got a key on him?” Sehun asks. 

“Maybe,” Junmyeon says. 

It is a grim scene, but they crouch down at either side of the man, searching his pockets. They find nothing that could aid them, nothing that could point them towards the symbols that make up the code. 

“There’s gotta be something,” Junmyeon says, and he gets up, starts frantically searching the shelves, sending books to the floor, the spines split open as he shakes them. “There’s gotta be something around here.” 

Sehun kneels on the floor as he watches Junmyeon search, and he lets his brain turn. 

Sehun peels the man out of his suit, and starts to look him over top to bottom. 

“This really isn’t the time for idle body worship,” Junmyeon snorts. “Especially on an Agency Director.” 

“Shut up,” Sehun says. “I’m looking for—” 

Sehun turns the man’s hand over in his, and he studies the palm of his hand. The symbols inked into his flesh look familiar. Quickly, he checks on the keyboard, sees the symbols replicated. He goes back to the man’s hand, counts to sixteen. He found it. Against all odds, he found it. 

“J-Junmyeon,” Sehun says frantically. “ _Junmyeon_.” 

“What?” 

“I found it,” Sehun says. “I found the code.”

“ _What?_ ” He leaps over to Sehun, grabs the dead man’s hand, and together they stare down at the tattoo code. A smile spreads onto Junmyeon’s face, and he drops the hand, throwing his arms around Sehun. “You’re so good. You’re so _good_.” 

The embrace is needed, desired, and Sehun closes his eyes, lets himself dream of a life where it is just the two of them, when they can have each other until the end of time. 

“I just… I only found it.” 

“I’m lucky to have you,” Junmyeon says. “If I didn’t say it enough before, I’ll say it now. I’m grateful you’re alive.” 

Sehun squeezes his eyes tight, so tight he sees stars amidst all the black. He tightens his arms around Junmyeon. “I’m grateful we have each other.” 

“God, if we weren’t right next to a dead body, I think this would be the most romantic moment of my life,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun coughs out a laugh. He pats Sehun on the back, pulls back with a smile. “Should we key this in? Get control once and for all?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun agrees. “Let’s do it.” 

Junmyeon sits at the helm while Sehun slowly, painstakingly describes each symbol. They check it once, twice, three times before Junmyeon presses the _Enter_ button. He sits back in the chair, and Sehun stands up, peeking over his shoulder. 

They read the message together. 

_Two-factor authentication_ , the screen says. _Biometric scan._

Suddenly, a tray juts out from the middle of the dashboard, and Junmyeon looks back at Sehun. “Fuck,” he says. “What if he needs to be… alive? Biometrics could mean… they could do an iris scan. O-Or a heartbeat.” 

“Oh,” Sehun says, the light drained from him. 

“Let’s try it,” Junmyeon says, “hurry. Get me his hand.” 

Sehun is slow to drag the body over towards the tray, and he presses the man’s thumb against the scanner. 

They wait as the light shines out over the skin. It beeps suddenly, harshly. 

_Access denied._

They drop the man’s hand, drop his body back to the floor. 

“Fuck,” Junmyeon says, and he raises his hand sharply like he’s about to bring it down hard. Instead, it lands softly on the panel. “Fuck.” 

“T-There has to be a way to bypass it,” Sehun says. “S-Some way.” 

“That was our way,” Junmyeon says, and he points to the lifeless man on the floor, the pool of blood that drowns him. “That was our way. And I… I fucking ruined it.” He turns to Sehun, smiles at him. “You were always telling me to be less impulsive, weren’t you? A little more careful?” 

“Stop, it’s… it’s okay,” Sehun says. “We’ll figure it out, we will.” 

“There’s no thinking this one out. There isn’t anything for us to do. This place is a fucking shell. There’s not another living human on this ship besides you and me” 

“T-Then,” Sehun starts, “then we’ll hack it.” 

“How do you root a computer like this? How do you even get into it? There’s no fucking drive except for the biotray. We can’t input any information if we don’t have _physical access_ to it.” 

Sehun spins around, looking for an answer only to discover that there is no answer. Sometimes, he realizes, there is no answer. The question remains unanswered until the oxygen is exhausted. Sometimes, things are meaningless, and no desperate, fruitless attempt to inject meaning will ever work. Sometimes, stories end. Sometimes, those ends are not happy, satisfying, or good. 

“So we’re stranded,” Sehun says, and he attempts to keep the tears out of his eyes, blinking quickly. “We’re… we’re here until we starve. Until we dehydrate into husks, and we die.” 

Junmyeon doesn’t say anything at first, only pulls Sehun into his arms, into a tight hug. 

“I’m sorry,” Junmyeon says. “I’m sorry, I… it’s all right. Don’t think about it.” 

“How can I not think about it?” Sehun asks. “It’s the only thing to think about now.” 

“Don’t think about it,” Junmyeon whispers. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll figure something out.” 

“Food, water,” Sehun says, and he barely holds back an empty sob as he thinks about it, dying in Junmyeon’s arms, a husk of himself. “We’re—”

“It’s going to be okay. We’re gonna find a way out.” 

“There isn’t a way.” 

Junmyeon pulls him back by the shoulders, looks into his eyes, and _oh_ , it is exactly as Sehun remembers it. Hard and soft. Beautiful in all ways. Like stars. 

“There’s always a way,” Junmyeon says easily, like it is the only thing he could possibly say at that moment, the exact thing that Sehun needs him to say most. “Don’t we always find a way?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says, “we do.” 

“So we find a way.” He leans in, his forehead touching Sehun’s, the tip of his nose pressing Sehun’s. “We’ve been through a lot, right?” 

“Right.” 

“So, it’s sunk cost,” Junmyeon smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “We’ve come too far, worked too hard, seen too much. We can’t give up now, right?” 

“Right,” Sehun says, and he closes his eyes hard for a moment, collecting himself, collecting what is left of his energy. “Right, okay.” 

“Okay, first things first, right?” And Junmyeon lays his head on Sehun’s shoulder as he hugs him close, squeezing him tight. They hold each other there for a moment, and after a minute, Sehun finds himself smiling. When Junmyeon pulls back, he is smiling too. “There. Feel like your batteries are charged?” 

Sehun doesn’t know how he does this. Doesn’t know how this works. How can another person be so attuned to him? How can someone be so well suited to the curves and edges of him? He thinks then, looking at the love of his life, the love of _all_ of his lives, that the greatest pleasure of consciousness is being understood by someone else. 

“I love you,” Sehun says. 

“Yeah, idiot,” Junmyeon smiles, “I love you too.”  
  


♄

  
  
The first discovery, they were hurried. They were rushed. Now, they have all the time in the world. They take their time as they explore every little nook and cranny, and Sehun tries to keep his eyes open. It would feel so good to find something wonderful just to see the look on Junmyeon’s face, the pride streaked beautifully across his features. 

“This place is ridiculous,” Junmyeon says, hands against the metal hull of one of the holding stations. “This must have cost so much to keep going. A-And for this long…” 

“People will do anything when they’re scared.” 

“What could they possibly be scared of?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Us,” Sehun says. “They’re scared of people like us.” 

“You think so?” 

“Why else would they treat us like this?” Sehun asks. “They’re scared of what we could do together. If we decided to destroy them, we could.” 

“Maybe we already have,” Junmyeon smiles. He takes Sehun by the hand. “Come on. Let’s find provisions.” 

They walk hand in hand through the ship, scraping over every holding room. They don’t find much at first, just cells like the ones they were held in. It is still depressing, still vaguely shameful. In what universe would they have been brainwashed into this… 

“You were brainwashed in the simulation,” Junmyeon says. “Remember?” 

“Okay, _brainwashed_ is a little much.” 

“You were so emotionally backed-up.” 

“Only because I thought that was how you were supposed to do it,” Sehun says. “But then—” 

“But then…?” 

“But then, obviously, I found you,” Sehun says. “Happy?” 

“Elated,” Junmyeon smiles, and he pulls Sehun down by the hand, kisses him on his cheek. 

Sehun imagines that, on his own, the exploration would not be nearly as cheerful as it is with Junmyeon at his side. He imagines it might be scary. Confusing. With Junmyeon, it doesn’t feel terrible. It feels like just another mission, just another stretch into darkness. 

It is not long before they stumble across a room that looks unlike any of the others they’ve found. 

“Got it,” Junmyeon smiles, and he nudges Sehun with his elbow. “You wanna do the honors?” 

Sehun lets go of Junmyeon’s hand, both hands stretched across the staff. He bashes the end through the scanner, and the doors jitter open, rickety slow. 

The room is small, just a table with two chairs. There are two trays. Two cups, two forks, two knives, two spoons, two sets of chopsticks. There are cans along the side of the room, and when Sehun checks, he sees that they’re labeled _water_. There is a shelf along the back wall. Junmyeon steps forward, analyzes the contents. He reaches inside, grabs one of the sizable plastic pouches. He scans over the label, shows it to Sehun. 

_Carbmash (butter), protein slurry (nut), lipidbar (chocolate)_

“Well,” Sehun says, “at least we found the cafe.” 

“Not much of a cafe,” Junmyeon snorts. 

“Let’s make a tally,” Sehun says, and he starts counting up all the pouches of food. “That way, we’ll know how long we can last.” 

“Okay,” Junmyeon agrees, but he gives Sehun a look, a coy little smile on his face. 

“What?” 

“Look at you,” Junmyeon praises. “Taking initiative.” Sehun rolls his eyes. “I’m serious. You’re becoming quite the leader.” 

“Well, I learned from the best,” Sehun says, and one minute, his arms full of food packs. Next, his arms are full of Junmyeon, the food packs thrown to the floor. 

Junmyeon kisses him, and Sehun realizes that they’ve always been in this together, even when he didn’t know it. 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says, stepping back from Sehun with red lips and mussed hair. “W-We should do that count thing or whatever.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Sehun says. “Count.”  
  


♄

  
  
They have enough food to last them approximately one and a half weeks if they ration things out meagerly. Sehun finds it vaguely depressing to look at the stock of it, all the food they have left, but Junmyeon bumps his hip into Sehun’s, making him smile. They haul the food around, arms full, and they pad through empty halls. At this point, Sehun would kill for a shower unit. 

“Remember the fucking scent settings?” Junmyeon says wistfully. “The _lav-honey_ setting? Oh, man… put me right to sleep, I swear.” 

“There were scent settings?” Sehun asks. 

“Y-Yeah? Before you jump into the unit,” Junmyeon says. “Wait, are you serious? You had no idea?” 

“I don’t wanna talk about this,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon teases him as they walk, and Sehun feels his mood lift as Junmyeon keeps him laughing. Sehun doesn’t know where they’re going, but he figures as long as he’s going there with Junmyeon, he doesn’t care. 

“We should pick a place. Somewhere to set up,” Junmyeon says. He turns to Sehun, peers around his armful of rations. “Any ideas?” 

Sehun wracks his brain for a moment before the fog clears. 

“The loading bay,” Sehun says. “That way, if they get an automated shipment, we’ll be able to hijack the ship. Get on, a-and go our own way.” 

Junmyeon smiles at him, tugs him into a kiss. 

“That’s my little pirate,” Junmyeon grins. “Get the rest of the food. Let’s set up shop.”  
  


♄

  
  
The loading bay is hollow and empty, and Sehun wonders when the last shipment was. It sends a cloud of anxiety swirling through his chest, heavy and sinking into his stomach. It looks bleak, and Sehun is susceptible to those feelings. 

“Don’t worry,” Junmyeon says. “It’s fine. If they were getting a shipment, then we’ll still get it. Don’t worry.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says, and he doesn’t voice his concerns that perhaps the shipments were _called_ for by the control room. “It’ll be okay.” 

They set up camp there, dragging out cots. They have a little heating device, old fashioned and strange, but Junmyeon deftly turns it on and suddenly, the chill of the bay is not so cold anymore.   
"You're so good at stuff like that," Sehun says, and he sits on his cot, puts his hands in front of the heating element that billows with heat. 

"So good at what?" 

"Knowing what to do." 

Junmyeon scoffs. "Please, I just look confident in all my mistakes. That's the only difference between the two of us." 

"I always suspected you because you were too perfect," Sehun admits, and he is immediately swallowed by the shame of it. "I don't mean it like that, but..." 

"Ah, I know exactly how you meant it," Junmyeon says, and when Sehun chances a look up at him, he's smirking, just as cocky and confident as always. "It would have saved us a lot of time if you'd just said that from the beginning." 

"Why?" 

"Because," Junmyeon shrugs, "then I could have told you that I'm just as scared as you. All the time. The only difference between us is that I don't usually show it." Sehun stares at him over the heater, and it gives off beams of warmth. He starts to tear up, and he blames it on the heat. 

"You're not sad, are you?" 

"No," Sehun says, shaking his head back and forth. "I'm just... I wish things were different." 

"Why would you want that?" Junmyeon asks. "If anything had been different, then we wouldn't be right here, right now." 

Sehun looks down, knits his hands together, and he twists them back and forth. "Maybe they'd be better." 

"Maybe they'd be worse," Junmyeon suggests. "Maybe we wouldn't even be together." 

Sehun breathes in deeply, chest filling with air as he tries to imagine a world, _his_ world without Junmyeon. It seems almost impossible now that they are so ingrained in each other, so intertwined. He doesn't want to think about that possibility. Doesn't even want to entertain the thought. 

"I think... I think no matter what," Sehun starts, "we would find each other." 

"Yeah?" Junmyeon asks, tilting his head to the side. "Do you really think so?" 

"I do," Sehun says, blinking through tears. "Is that stupid?" 

"No. I think that's really sweet." 

Sehun is suddenly overwhelmed, whether it's by the heat or the conversation, and he lays his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's going on with me." 

"You're scared," Junmyeon says. "I'm scared too." 

"I don't wanna be scared anymore." 

Junmyeon is quiet for several seconds, and it makes Sehun look up. He's never seen the look on Junmyeon's face that stares back at him. Like he's crumbling. 

"You don't have to be scared," Junmyeon says. "We have each other, right?" 

"Yeah," Sehun says. 

"So then everything will be okay, right?" Junmyeon asks, and there is a tremor in his voice.   
Junmyeon has always been so strong. So sure. It fills Sehun with purpose, this momentary weakness. 

"Yeah," Sehun says, and he is imbued with confidence. Strength. "We'll be okay."  
  


♄

  
  
Days pass by easily, strangely. They wake in the morning, and they eat together next to the heater. Junmyeon occasionally explores the forgotten holding cells, scavenging for parts, but Sehun finds the whole occasion very disheartening so he stays in the loading bay, staring at the doors. In the afternoon, they tinker on things together, little simple machines that he remembers from early classes in his learning days. At night, they talk, dream about what they'll do after, and Sehun can't help but feel like they are delaying the inevitable. A conversation that needs to be had. 

Sehun's never really had _nothing_ to do, not so long as he can remember. 

"Well, those were fake memories anyway," Junmyeon notes. "Right? I mean, we were just sitting here doing fuckall while our brains and a series of electromagnetic pulses told us we were fighting a war." 

"True," Sehun says, "but still... I'm not used to just sitting around and waiting for something." 

"Yeah," Junmyeon says, and he kicks him. "My go-getter." 

Sehun rolls his eyes, but he allows himself to be tugged into Junmyeon's cot. He curls his body around Sehun's, buries them both in an embrace. 

"Do you worry that maybe no one is coming for us?" Sehun asks. 

"Oh, stop," Junmyeon says. "I'd just gotten comfortable."

"I just think maybe we should talk about it." 

"What do you want to talk about then?" Junmyeon asks. "Do you want to talk about suicide pact?" 

"I didn't say that." 

"Then, what?" Junmyeon asks, and he doesn't sound _accusatory_ , doesn't sound _judgmental_ , just sounds like Junmyeon. Just sounds like his better half, scared and excited for what the future might hold for them. 

"Then, I don't know," Sehun says. "But let's say the ship never comes." 

"Okay, let's say the ship never comes." 

"What do we do?" 

"Well, we only have enough supplies to last for two weeks," Junmyeon says. "So..." 

"So maybe..." 

"What, maybe we have a backup plan?" Junmyeon asks. "I don't know too much about SOS's. I've never sent one." 

"There should be projection materials in the control room," Sehun says. "I think maybe I could figure something out." 

"We shouldn't draw much attention to ourselves," Junmyeon says. "We don't know what's looking for us. We don't know who's out there. I mean, as far as we know." 

"Oh, yeah," Sehun says, and he punches his leg. "Kinda forgot that we're—" 

"Fugitives?" Junmyeon smirks. "Kinda sexy, huh." 

"Murder is not good," Sehun warns. 

"No, but those bitches had it fuckin' coming." 

"Yeah, they did." 

Junmyeon squeezes his arms tighter around Sehun's body, and Sehun sighs into the embrace. He presses a kiss to the top of Junmyeon's head, and he wonders if he would feel so at peace, so at home with anyone else. They've bonded in a universe, in a reality that does not exist, and still, nothing has ever been more real. 

"I love you," Sehun says. 

"What's that for?" 

"It's not _for_ anything," Sehun says. "I just... felt like I should say it." 

“Because we're here, and... and you've made me who I am," Sehun says. "Is that so fucking terrible?" 

Junmyeon snorts, and he buries his face into Sehun's chest. "No, not so terrible after all."  
  


♄

  
  
They scavenge over the course of the next several days, dedicating themselves to the cause almost like everything is back the way it used to be. They have a mission, they have a purpose, and in a way, it's very satisfying. They've always worked well together, and now, Sehun has the expertise. 

"Get that hypertransmitter," Sehun says, and he points back towards the shelf of rusted gear. "Do you know the one I'm talking about?" 

"Oh, you get one area of expertise and all of a sudden, you think you're a hot shit big shot." 

"I _am_ a hot shit big shot," Sehun smiles. "Do you know the one?" 

"I know the one, I know the one," Junmyeon mutters, and he takes it, chucks it in an arc. "There you go." 

Sehun studies it, turning it over in his hand. It's a receiver. He looks back over his shoulder, eyeing Junmyeon carefully. 

"Is this a joke?" Sehun asks. 

"It is a joke," Junmyeon smiles, and he tosses over the hypertransmitter. "Did you find it funny?" 

"I don't think you were joking," Sehun says, but he snatches the real hypertransmitter out of the air. He begins to assess the damage to it. "Okay, this isn't so bad. I think we just need to tinker with the frequency and potentially with the telescopic antenna." 

"Nerd shit," Junmyeon assesses. 

"Life-saving shit." 

"Yeah, yeah," Junmyeon says, and he stands up, crossing back over to Sehun. He throws his arms around Sehun's shoulders, and he kisses him messily on the cheek. "Love you." 

"I love you too," Sehun says. "Now let's get to work." 

"That's my baby," Junmyeon says, and he stands up straight, goes back to the shelf. "Just tell me what you need."  
  


♄

  
  
It isn't exactly hard work. They studied a lot more complicated things at the Agency learning centers, so it all comes together rather quickly. They set up the frequency, exchange the batteries for some high powered ones they scavenge. Sehun sets it near the open window at the head of the ship, and he gets Junmyeon to program in the S.O.S. code. 

"Don't be weird about it," Sehun says, hawking over Junmyeon's shoulder as he types. 

"I'm not being _weird_ , I'm being logical," Junmyeon says. "No food, no entertainment. Will die within a day." 

"No entertainment?" 

"Well, you won't let me stick it in," Junmyeon says, raising a brow. 

"We have enough food for a couple more days," Sehun says. "Do you think that's the correct time for sex?"   
" _No_ ," Junmyeon says exaggeratedly, and he rolls his eyes. "God, you're no fun at all." 

"We can have fun once we're exploring the galaxy and galaxies beyond," Sehun says. "Is that fair?" 

"Yes, that's fair, but I still don't care for it," Junmyeon says, raising his nose in the air as he types. "There." 

"Finally good?" 

"Finally good," Junmyeon says. "What do I do to, like, turn this baby on?" 

Sehun flicks the switch on the side, and the antenna extends. "There. We're broadcasting." 

"Now we wait," Junmyeon says. 

"Now we wait."  
  


♄

  
  
The days tick by, and Sehun's spirits go from high to low within the matter of hours. The food was novel at first, but after the novelty is gone, Sehun's stomach turns when he thinks about it. Still, he fills himself with the necessary proteins and fats and carbs, but he finds less and less pleasure in it. He finds himself thinking more and more about what could happen if both plans fail, what happens if they are stranded on this ship for the rest of their lives. 

"You think too much," Junmyeon criticizes. "We've done all we can do at this point." 

"I don't like that," Sehun says. 

"I know." He gestures towards Sehun with his plastic spoon. "We just gotta... you know, wait." 

"I hate waiting." 

"I know," Junmyeon grins, and it is excruciatingly fond. 

Sehun's stomach turns with pleasure now. Junmyeon is the only thing keeping him sane. Junmyeon is the person who makes everything worth it. Junmyeon is why he _wants_ so desperately to get to their after. 

He scoops into his protein slurry, lifts it to his mouth. It goes down thickly, almost coating the back of his throat. He chokes it down, takes a sip of his water to see if it helps. He looks back up at Junmyeon, sees him staring. 

"What are you thinking about?" Sehun asks. 

"Just thinking about you," Junmyeon says. 

"What about me?" 

"I think we're a good balance. Raw anxiety and unwarranted confidence." 

Sehun rolls his eyes, takes another bite of his slurry as Junmyeon stretches out his leg to kick Sehun in the shin. They eat their supper as the ship soldiers on, as they hear the haunting radio silence of deep space through their recorder. Sehun doesn't have high hopes, but Junmyeon does. And at the end of the day, that's really all he needs.  
  


♄

  
  
The rations slip past them, and even on the last couple of days, they try to eat less. Sehun barely feels awake when he opens his eyes after sleep, and all of his gestures, all of his movements feel a bit more complicated. His limbs feel heavy. His eyelids feel heavy. He's never felt starvation before, but he thinks he's in the midst of it then in their final days. 

"You're dramatic," Junmyeon says, and Sehun tightens his arms around him. 

"Yeah." 

They stare out at the swirling blue galaxy, dense with flames of light. Sehun tilts his head to the side, leaning against Junmyeon's. They do this a lot now, staring out the window. Sehun doesn't know if Junmyeon suggested it because it reminded him of the nights they used to spend in the simulation, staring up at the stars, but it helps.

"Do you ever think about back then?" Junmyeon asks. "The simulation?" 

"Of course," Sehun says. 

"Me too." 

There is a comfortable silence, and Sehun holds Junmyeon close. It doesn't feel like Junmyeon should be the kind of person to reminisce always up and onto the next thing, but maybe here, the real edge of the universe, it makes sense to look back at where they've been. 

"I always wanted to be with you," Sehun confesses. 

"Oh, shut up," Junmyeon says, and he balls up his fist, punches Sehun in the bicep. "You had every opportunity, and I made that clear." 

"You were confusing." 

"And you were easily confused," Junmyeon says, and he looks back over his shoulder. "But at least now we have each other, huh?" 

"That honestly might be all we have," Sehun says. 

"Yeah, and that's good enough." 

Sehun sighs, holding Junmyeon tight. It is good enough. Their food is dwindling, he can barely keep his eyes open, and still, it is enough.  
  


♄

  
  
The following morning, Sehun looks at the box where they've been holding the rations, and he realizes that there is only one left. They'll barely make it through the rest of the week with the way the water has been running dry. 

"Don't think about that," Junmyeon says, and he tears the foil on the ration open, and he portions out what's left. 

Sehun's mouth goes dry. They've been holding back, sleeping on empty stomachs, and it is starting to take its toll. 

"Let's talk about something," Junmyeon says. "Get your mind off things." 

"I don't feel like talking," Sehun says. "I'm sorry." 

"I know you don't feel like it, but it'll be good for you. So tell me about something. Tell me about anything." 

"I don't have anything to say." 

"You always got something to say," Junmyeon says, and Sehun reaches out mindlessly, traces Junmyeon's smile with his fingertips. "W-What are you doing?" 

"I dunno," Sehun says, and he blinks himself out of it. Moves his hands back down to his tray. 

"Sorry." 

"You don't have to apologize, come on. You can tell me anything. We can do _anything_." 

"Talking feels silly." 

"Sometimes it is," Junmyeon shrugs. "It might make you feel better." 

Sehun doesn't want to feel better. Sehun wants to sleep until the exhaustion seeps out of him. Sehun wants to be back in his other body, happy, healthy, well-fed. He can't remember ever being totally happy, totally healthy, but he was certainly full. 

"Finish your food," he whispers. "And then we can... lie down or whatever." 

"Okay," Junmyeon says, and they feed themselves with meager rations, collapsing to Sehun's cot when all is said and done. 

He holds his arms open for Junmyeon, and Junmyeon goes to him, cuddles up close to him. It is warm, and Sehun closes his eyes against the feeling. Comfort and... despite everything else, the feeling of _home_. 

"You wanna talk _now_?" Junmyeon teases. 

"Yeah, I guess I did wanna say something to you," Sehun says. "I just wanted to tell you how much you mean to me." 

"Oh, stop." 

“I… I just wanted to say that, if this really is gonna be the end,” Sehun says, “then I’m really glad I got to spend it with you.” 

“Shut up,” Junmyeon says, and he rests his head against Sehun’s chest. “Don’t make me sad.” 

“It’s a sad thing,” Sehun says, “dying.” 

“We’re not dying.” 

“We will,” Sehun says. 

“No,” Junmyeon says, stubborn even at the end. “No, we’re not.” 

“If we were,” Sehun says, “what would you want to say to me?” 

“This is a stupid thought experiment, and I refuse to engage with you.” 

“Humor me,” Sehun says, “just this once.” 

Junmyeon looks up at him from where he lays across Sehun, and their eyes meet, a collision in the middle of deep space. He grins at Sehun, slightly weakened now, and Sehun yearns… yearns for something other than this. A life where it could just be them. A world where they could be together and _truly_ happy. Nothing in their way. 

“I can’t remember what we were before the simulation,” he says. “I can’t remember if I knew your name, if I recognized your face. I don’t know if we knew each other on Chronos or not.” He looks back down, and he tangles his hand with Sehun’s. “What I _do_ know is that way back when in that simulation, when we were taking our test… I saw your soul, and I knew that I had to go to you.” 

“J-Junmyeon—”

“No,” Junmyeon says, and he squeezes Sehun’s hand in his, huffing out a laugh. “You wanted this, so now you have to take it. No take backs.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you,” Junmyeon says. “And… And no matter what they say they did, no matter what tech they’ve got… they can’t make me love you. But I love you. I saw who you were, and I fell in love in an instant.” He looks back up into Sehun’s eyes, bright like new stars. “I haven’t changed my mind. Not even for a fucking second.” 

Tears leap to Sehun's eyes and as he blinks, they fall down his face. 

"Don't cry," Junmyeon says. "I hate seeing you cry." 

"I can't help it," Sehun says. "You're nice." 

"I just wanted you to know," Junmyeon says, "that feeling... our souls stuck together." He closes his eyes, and Sehun leans in, presses their foreheads together. "That's not simulated. That's not anything but us." 

"I know. I know." 

"There's a lot of chaos. A lot you can't control," Junmyeon says. "But I have you. And we have each other. And that's static. That won't ever change." 

"I know," Sehun says, and he shuts his eyes. "I know." 

"Sleep, okay?" Junmyeon says, and even with Sehun's eyes closed, he can tell that Junmyeon is just as tired as he is. "I'll wake you up in a little while." 

Sehun makes a soft sound of frustration as he tightens his hold on Junmyeon, squeezing him tightly. Most people, Sehun assumes, don't get love like this. But he did. He does. 

Even if everything else goes to hell, even if the world falls down around them... they were meant to be. They became something beautiful.  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun wakes because of Junmyeon's hand on his shoulder, and he doesn't realize how violently Junmyeon is shaking him until he's conscious. 

"What the hell," Sehun says sleepily. "What are you shaking me for?" 

"You wouldn't wake up," Junmyeon says, and immediately, the panic is evident. His eyes are rimmed in red, and his lashes are wet. Sehun tries to sit up, but he finds it challenging. "Come on." Junmyeon offers him a hand, and Sehun takes it gratefully. "Up we go." 

"I really think... I don't know that we're gonna make it," Sehun admits, and it comes out with a croaking voice. 

"Negative thinking is negative energy," Junmyeon says. "Don't put that energy on me." 

"Are you as tired as I am?" 

"Yeah," Junmyeon says. "I am." 

"Do you really think someone's coming for us?" 

"I know they are," Junmyeon says. 

"How do you know that?" 

"I have faith," Junmyeon says. "I can feel it." 

"Reflex," Sehun smiles. 

"Nah," Junmyeon smiles back. "Gut instinct." 

"I hate you," Sehun says, and he throws his arms around Junmyeon's neck with the last bit of his strength. "I'm sorry." 

"You don't have to be sorry," Junmyeon says. "Nothing to be sorry for. I swear." 

"I just want to make you happy. I want us to live. I don't wanna die here." 

"I don't either. And we're not." 

Suddenly, there is a furious _whoosh_ ing sound, and the pair of them look up to the parting doors, the airlock. 

“F-Fuck,” Junmyeon says, and he scrambles up to his feet, looking back at Sehun. “W-Who is it?” 

“T-The shipment?” 

“I don’t… I don’t think so,” Junmyeon says, fear in his mouth. 

They sent a signal for anyone. Anyone at all. 

The door lurches open, the two figures draped in shadows, and Junmyeon holds the knife out in front of him, so Sehun holds the staff out much the same. It vibrates in his hands, pulsing with energy, and Sehun tries not to let it get to him, put fear into him. 

“Who are you?” Junmyeon asks evenly. “Step into the light, and be warned, we’re armed, so don’t… don’t try anything.” 

Slowly, slowly, the first figure steps into the dull white light of the room, and Sehun practically feels his throat tear in two with how quickly a sob jumps into his mouth. 

His hair is messier now, longer and dirty, and there is a nasty scar over his lip. He is wearing the same clothes as them, but far more worn. Torn and fraying at the edges. Sehun cannot believe he’s real. That he’s alive. That he’s standing there in front of them. 

“Hey,” Kyungsoo says with a little grin on his face. “Funny meeting you here.” 

Sehun launches himself into Kyungsoo’s embrace, and he buries his tears into Kyungsoo’s shoulders. 

“What the fuck? What the _fuck_? How are you… how are you here? How are you _real_?”

“I died,” Kyungsoo says. “And then I woke up.” 

“H-How did you find us?” Sehun asks, and he squeezes Kyungsoo in his arms, eyes shut as it filters in. “How are you—” 

“Oh, holy shit,” Junmyeon says. 

Sehun’s eyes open, and the figure from the dark moves forward, and Sehun’s heart leaps into his mouth as it occurs to him who it must be. The man pulls the hood from his head, and tears furiously spill from Sehun’s eyes. He chokes over his own emotion. 

“M-Minseok?” 

His hair is long, over his shoulder in an elegant plait. He still has the same smile, the same light in his eyes. _This can’t be real. I can’t have this. I don’t deserve it._

“It’s me,” he says, voice velvety smooth. “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you.” 

“M-Minseok?” 

He smiles, and the corners of his eyes raise. Sehun wonders how long it’s been since they’ve seen each other. It’s impossible to know, but it feels like an eternity. _I saw you die,_ Sehun wants to say. _But now here you are. Here we both are. Alive. Our hearts are still beating._

“How are you still alive?” Sehun asks. “H-How are you not dead?” 

Minseok looks him over, the tension in his body. “What did he tell you?” 

“Who?” 

“The director. I'm assuming he's dead,” Minseok smiles. “What did he tell you about the universe?” 

“The devastations are real,” Junmyeon answers. “We were born to fight.” 

Minseok looks to Kyungsoo, and they share a heavy moment, one that feels all the heavier since Junmyeon and Sehun don’t know what in the fuck is going on anymore. 

“The devastations _were_ real,” Minseok says. “A long time ago. And the Agency… they were raising us as a failsafe. An army for when they returned.” He looks back towards the door, to the window. “The universe is… it’s sort of empty now.” 

“Empty?” Sehun asks, his heart falling to the floor of the ship. 

Minseok smiles sadly at him. “I almost forgot how young you were.” 

“I’m not young anymore,” Sehun tells him. 

“You’ll always stay young,” Minseok says. “That’s just who you are.” 

The pair of them look around, Kyungsoo and Minseok, and Kyungsoo's eyes glaze over Junmyeon and Sehun's bodies. Sehun wants to hug his arms close to himself, but he stands still, letting Kyungsoo look at him. He blinks, and a million moments of their simulation pass before him. None of them in reality. _Insane._  
"You two look like hell," Kyungsoo says. "No wonder you sent a signal."   
"You heard it?" Sehun smiles.   
“How else would we have gotten to you so quickly?” Minseok snorts. “If we’re being completely honest, it probably saved your lives. We’ve been looking for survivors, and it’s vast out there.” 

Sehun swallows thickly, and he shuts his eyes. 

“We can talk more about this later,” Kyungsoo suggests. “First, you two look like you’re starving. Do you want some food?” 

Sehun’s eyes spring open as Junmyeon inhales sharply. 

“You guys have food?” Junmyeon asks. 

Minseok laughs, and he brings their ship in. It is beaten and battered, weathered by time, but the side door opens, and it reveals… 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Sehun’s eyes go wide when he sees the rations, piled on top of each other like hundreds upon thousands of stacked readers in the library system. He shuts his eyes, overwhelmed, and Junmyeon takes him in his arms. Whispers into his ear. _It’s okay now. It’s all over. Our fight was real, but now it’s done._  
  


♄

  
  
They feast, the four of them. They sit cross-legged on the floor of the payload bay, the rations spilt before them. There are things Sehun’s never tried before, or at the very least, things he doesn’t remember trying. Pure chocolate. Butter. 

“The memory thing,” Minseok says, and he digs his chopsticks around a container of spray- and freeze-dried yakisoba, reactivated with water. “They come back to you after a while.” 

“Really?” Sehun asks, and he scoots closer. “How?” 

“Something about the rewrite process,” Minseok shrugs. “Wasn’t meant to last forever. It was just a test. There was a clause in the consent forms. They used us to experiment the serums.” He slurps more noodles into his mouth, the sauce dotting the corner of his mouth, seeming totally at peace. “I think, and this is just me thinking, but I think they wanted to develop it as a way to wage psychological warfare.” 

Sehun shudders, a cymbal clash along his spine as he thinks of it. 

“It’ll get less scary with time,” Kyungsoo assures him. 

“Right,” Sehun says. 

“How long have you guys been… _awake_?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Two years,” Minseok says. “Well, almost two years. Coming up on my anniversary, actually.” 

Sehun and Junmyeon turn to Kyungsoo. 

“Almost a year,” Kyungsoo says, a small, traumatized smile on his face. “It’s been hard.” 

“Not so hard that it’s not worth fighting for,” Minseok says, says it like a reminder. Like they’ve had this conversation before. Minseok turns, gestures to Junmyeon and Sehun. “Better now that we found them, right?” 

“Right,” Kyungsoo says. He shakes out a laugh, reaches out to hold Sehun’s hand. “I… I missed you.” 

It is strange, sitting there. He’s had a little life with Kyungsoo. Barely had time to register the betrayal that wasn’t. And now, here he is. Innocent and good and scarred by time, and Sehun loves him, loves him. 

He gets to his knees, pulls him to a hug. He wonders if they knew each other before. Before all this. Was it just he and Junmyeon on Chronos? Was the rest of this just a stroke of luck? 

“We should get out of here,” Kyungsoo suggests. “This place is deadzone.” 

“Yeah,” Minseok says. “Maybe go try and find some others.” 

“Is that your plan? Sehun asks. “Rescuing whoever’s left.” 

“We’ve had our conversations,” Minseok says. “But we’ve had time to process.” 

“It’s something we’d like to pursue,” Kyungsoo says. “What about you guys?” 

“We woke up, like, last week,” Junmyeon smiles. “We might need some time to adjust.” 

“Absolutely,” Minseok says. “Absolutely, yes.” He looks around. “Kyungsoo’s right, though. We’re bleeding time here, and this is a shell.” He shivers. “It’s like we’re waiting around to die.” 

“Don’t want that now, do we?” Junmyeon says. 

“No, we certainly don’t.” 

Junmyeon looks at Sehun, smirks and nods towards Sehun’s dish of food. He lowers his voice, says the word softly. “Eat.” 

Sehun’s stomach rolls with concern, but he eats. He’s never been hungrier.  
  


♄

  
  
Kyungsoo and Minseok stay the night aboard the Agency ship, but they bunk in their own ship. Sehun sleeps on his cot, eyes open as he stares at the rusted hull. He is filled with dread that he can’t place nor escape from, and he shuts his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep. Sleep doesn’t come easily. Frustrated, he turns over, sees Junmyeon staring back at him. 

“Hi,” Junmyeon whispers. 

“Hi,” Sehun whispers back. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

“No,” Sehun answers. 

Junmyeon curls his arm underneath his head, looking supremely cozy. “Why not?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. “This is all moving kind of fast.” 

“Isn’t that how it goes?” Junmyeon asks. “Nothing and then everything?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “I guess.” 

Junmyeon smiles, and his eyes sparkle like faraway stars. Sehun can think of nothing but how beautiful he is, how much he loves him. How he wishes he could spend a lifetime just looking at him.

“Are you scared?” Junmyeon asks, and he bites his lip, chewing on it nervously. 

“Scared of what?” 

“Moving on.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, an easy moment of honesty. “I think so.” 

“I’ll never make you do anything you don’t wanna do,” Junmyeon promises. “F-For the rest of our lives, I think we’ll be happy.” 

Sehun feels tears jump into his eyes, and he blinks until they slip down the side of his face. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“If you don’t wanna go with them, it’s okay,” Junmyeon says. “If you wanna go someplace on your own—”

There is a moment of clear-headed panic, a moment where Sehun is forced to think about an empty universe, a universe empty of Junmyeon. He shuts his eyes quickly, squeezes them tight until the stars wipe away the picture. 

“Not by myself,” Sehun says. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

“What do you want?” 

“To be with you,” Sehun says. “I want to be with you.” 

“Okay,” Junmyeon says. “Then we’ll stick together.” 

“I’m just so _tired_ ,” Sehun gasps. “I’m so… it’s stupid, right? It was just a simulation. No part of it was real, and I still—”

“It’s not stupid,” Junmyeon says firmly, and the tone of his voice slices through the quiet. “We’ll rest. I swear.” 

“Okay.” He breathes out slowly. “Okay.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Sehun frowns, adjusts himself in his cot. “What are you sorry for?” 

“If I wasn’t… If I haven’t protected you well enough,” Junmyeon says. “I always… ever since I met you, I wanted to protect you. I wanted to love you the way you deserve to be loved.” 

“No one’s—I think you’re the only good thing about my life,” Sehun says, choked up by how honest he’s being. “I can’t remember another good thing besides you.” 

“We’re gonna find a lot to be happy about,” Junmyeon says. “I promise.” 

Sehun feels the distance between them, stark and thick, and he moves one of his hands out as if to reach for Junmyeon before pulling it back to his body, cradling it into his body. 

“Come here,” Junmyeon says. 

“There isn’t enough room for both of us on one cot,” Sehun whispers. 

“I don’t care.” 

Sehun stands up, and he crosses to Junmyeon, lays his body down next to Junmyeon’s. They share the only warmth in the universe in that cot, and as Sehun’s eyes slip shut, he thinks about finding more, building a fire that could spread across rippling oceanic skies.  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun stretches awake to the sound of laughter. 

He flips over in the cot, squints at the three of them sitting next to Kyungsoo and Minseok’s ship. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Minseok smiles. “Have a good night?” 

Sehun sits up too fast, and all the blood rushes to his head. It feels a bit like he’s about to pass out, but the dizziness abates quickly, thankfully. 

“I slept okay,” Sehun answers, coaxing his hair tame. 

“When we woke up, we saw you guys huddled together on one cot, and I thought it was just about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Minseok says, hugging himself. “Warms my cold, bleak heart.” 

Junmyeon shoves him, sends him into a fit of laughter, and Sehun blinks several times before standing up with a great stretch. He walks over to the group, sits down next to Junmyeon, and grabs a cup of coffee, sweetened with sugar. 

“We’re planning on heading out today,” Minseok informs them. He nods towards the ship. “We’ll head out. Look for survivors.” 

“Sounds good,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun wraps his hands tighter around his cup of coffee. 

“So… have you guys thought about it?” Kyungsoo asks. 

“Thought about what?” Sehun asks. 

“Coming with us long-term,” Minseok says. “Trying to find others.” 

“Do you think there’s more out there?” Junmyeon asks. 

Minseok shrugs his shoulders. “We found you. There’s bound to be more.” 

“What happens if there isn’t?” Sehun asks. “What happens if it’s a lost cause?” 

Junmyeon nudges his knee into Sehun’s, and Sehun looks at him, tries to figure out the expression on his face. 

“It’s never a lost cause,” Minseok answers. “But we’d understand if you want us to, like, drop you off somewhere. Just keep in mind, things are…” 

“Empty,” Junmyeon says. 

Minseok nods. 

“If we changed our mind,” Sehun says, “later on down the line—” 

“You keep your transmitter,” Kyungsoo says. “Thing works like a champ. And then, you know, we’ll figure out the rest later. We’ll stay in constant contact, we’ll exchange trackers, and—” 

“And we just take it day by day,” Minseok says. “Is that agreeable?” 

Sehun looks to Junmyeon, and Junmyeon raises his brow like _Well?_

“Yeah, I think so,” Sehun says, and he looks down at his shivering reflection in the coffee. “I’m sorry, I think I just need some time to—” 

“Clear your head,” Kyungsoo says softly. “It’s okay.” 

“Yeah, if anything, we understand more than most,” Minseok says, and when Sehun looks up, he is smiling brightly. “It takes time. It’s okay. Take it at your own pace. We’ll be there. We’re in this together, you know.” 

Sehun’s heart twists inside his chest, and for the rest of the day, they pack up what they can, pick the ship clean before they get into Minseok and Kyungsoo’s transport. It is cramped, a little rusty, and Sehun takes one of the seats at the back. He hooks himself in, looking at the wires, the buttons. It is ancient tech. It’s like looking into the past. He stares in wonder. 

Minseok and Kyungsoo slide into the cockpits, and Junmyeon takes the seat next to him, the staff lying across his lap. The systems wake like opening eyes, blinking lights and whistling alarms. The window to the payload bay opens, and within the next moment, they are lifting off, that old familiar feeling. 

“First, let’s take them to—”

“Oh, yeah,” Kyungsoo says. “They’ll love it, and we can get them—”

“Yeah,” Minseok smiles, pulling back on a throttle, sending the stars screaming past them. 

Kyungsoo looks back over his shoulder, smiles. “Can’t wait for you guys to see this.” 

“See what?” 

“Home,” Minseok says, and even though Sehun can’t see his face, he can hear the joy. 

It’s been so long. He thinks he’d like to see home.  
  


♄

  
  
They go someplace Sehun has never gone before, the landscape unfamiliar to him. Sehun supposes that’s everywhere if he’s going by what happened in reality, not the reality he once knew. 

It was beautiful, he thinks, sometime in the distant past. The buildings are tall, built of natural white stone, and against the sky, they contrast, almost glow. There is something interesting about the integration of the metalwork into the buildings, and whenever the sand brushes against the structures, the light glitters. 

“Where are we?” Junmyeon asks. 

“We’re calling it Chronos,” Minseok says. “Home base for now.” He looks back over his shoulder with a little grin. “Come through here. We’ve been foraging for a while. Just in case we found anyone.” He grins. “We can get you some new clothes.” 

“Wait, really?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Please,” Minseok says, and he walks them over to one of the buildings they’re closest to, pulling open the wooden door. “Through here.” 

They walk into the old building, and Sehun sucks in a confused breath. It is strangely cluttered, the walls thick with collection. There is so much to look at, Sehun’s eye can’t focus on any one thing. He flits from object to object, metal to wood to cloth. There are shelves and shelves of books, of tech shit, of clothes and crystals and raw ore. Sehun’s eyes go wide when he locks with the silverstar, a chunk of it with jagged edges. He immediately goes to it, lets his fingers brush over the sharp edge. Junmyeon sucks in a breath, and the metal responds to him, responds to his magic. 

It gleams bright blue in the dingy amber light, and Sehun smiles. 

“Still got it,” Junmyeon whispers. 

“We’ve basically gathered whatever we thought could potentially be useful. We’ve got pretty much everything we could possibly need to sustain us, plus…” 

“Plus what?” Sehun wonders. 

“Plus, we have another ship,” Minseok smiles. “And, I dunno, I guess if you guys want to rent it for a bit, then we could make that happen.” 

Sehun’s eyes water. These are not the exact same people as the ones he once knew, but fundamentally, they are unchanged. You can change quite a bit, but some things are irreplaceable. 

“Yeah, if that would be okay,” Junmyeon says. 

“Yeah,” Minseok says. “But it’s a loaner, so just remember, you gotta bring it back at some point.” 

“We’ll bring it back,” Junmyeon grins, “eventually.”  
  


♄

  
  
The next several days, Sehun and Junmyeon live on Chronos in order to make their preparations for departure. They grew up together, Sehun learns. Chronos-826 was their ship. 

They’re given a room, a private one that is weirdly cozy, streaked with touches of _humanity_ , but the beds are bunk beds. 

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo shrugs. “This is pretty much all we got. We raided an old army base once.” He taps on the metal frame. “Sturdy, though. Just in case.” 

“In case of _what_?” Sehun asks, scandalized. 

Kyungsoo’s brow quirks. “Quakes. Why?” 

Heat immediately blushes across Sehun’s face, and he looks away, sure that Junmyeon is giving him a look. 

“No reason,” Junmyeon says. 

They tour the grounds, or what Minseok calls _the grounds_. They repurposed and gutted a building, making a little kitchen and dining house out of it. They show them the bathhouse, and Sehun is momentarily stunned by how clean everything is, free of dust and rust and grime. Minseok pulls a chain, and clean waters flow from the ceiling grates above the pools. Sehun stands there in wonder, trying not to compare it to what he remembers from the simulation.

They walk to a different building, and it is little more than a shell of what it used to be. 

“It was a theatre,” Minseok says. “But we’ve kind of… repurposed it.” 

There are large screens hanging from the rafters, and Sehun brushes one with his fingertips, surprised by the rough canvas. He looks around, observing the projectors stationed at the ceiling. It’s silly, seeing them and thinking _Where are the h-grams?_

“I wanted to say…” 

Sehun turns. He sees Kyungsoo fiddling with a remote, Minseok sitting in one of the plush green chairs, dust floating up in a cloud around him. 

“What?” Junmyeon asks, watching intently as Kyungsoo starts to press buttons. 

“When we were on the ship,” Kyungsoo says, “we went to the control room.” 

“Sorry,” Sehun shrugs, “we got carried away.” 

“No, we actually hacked the system,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Wait, how?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Destructive measures,” Minseok smiles, and he kicks one leg over the other. “We didn’t care if we burned up the system. We just wanted—” 

“Wanted to get this.” 

Suddenly, the projection flickers on, beamed up onto the huge off-white screen. It ripples, the lights stuttering and imperfect, but immediately, Sehun knows what he’s looking at: Chronos-826’s file system. 

“What did you take this for?” Sehun asks. 

“We’re gonna try and find the rest of the people,” Kyungsoo says. “We want to find as many as we can. See how many are still alive. How many still survived.” 

Sehun’s eyes glide down the list, and he tries to see if any of them ring any bells. The letters bleed together, and he feels an overwhelming and unavoidable ennui. He wishes he could remember. He hates not being able to. 

“So this is what you’re planning on?” Junmyeon asks. “Why?” 

“I can remember them. As kids,” Minseok says. “And even though we were in different simulations, I… I can’t shake the feeling that we’re family.” 

Sehun’s heart shatters in his chest. He wishes he could remember. He _wants_ to remember. 

_When he blinks, he is somewhere else. He is lying in bed, and he is waking up. He is on a set of bunk beds. He hears some tiny voices speaking around him, and when he turns to the side, he realizes that he is in a room full of boys, boys his own age. They are all young, and he can hear their fear. It is so obvious to his adult ears, but—_

“Sehun?” 

Sehun blinks, long and hard. Stars swim near Junmyeon’s head, and Sehun is relieved to see him. 

“You okay?” Junmyeon asks. “Are you feeling all right?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “I’m good.” 

“What the hell happened?” Junmyeon asks, and Sehun looks over Junmyeon’s shoulders, sees Kyungsoo and Minseok staring at him knowingly. 

“Nothing,” Sehun says. “Nothing, I think I just… I dunno, I think I was just daydreaming.” 

Junmyeon grins as he balls up his fist, punching Sehun in the shoulder. “Can’t take you anywhere, can I?”  
  


♄

  
  
Minseok and Kyungsoo give them as much as they can carry on the ship, plenty of things to set up a comfortable camp on any planet. Bedding, cooking supplies, things to build shelter even in hectic climates. They spend a couple days packing and organizing the ship, and it’s the happiest Sehun’s been since he can remember. He and Junmyeon bump hips as they navigate the little ship, and they pass smiles back and forth as they prepare, as they ready themselves for their departure. 

“Are you excited or nervous?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Healthy mix of both?” 

“That’s my boy,” Junmyeon smiles, and he checks his hip into Sehun’s. “It’s gonna be fun. Like a… like a big new adventure.” 

“Yeah, and those have always been good to us in the past.” 

“Hey, you have no idea how they’re treated us in the past,” Junmyeon says, poking a finger into the meat of Sehun’s shoulder. “Our reality’s been—” 

“Augmented?” Sehun fills in, lifting a brow. 

“Very cute,” Junmyeon says. “Just remember. It’s up to you.” 

“I want to go,” Sehun answers. “I want to be alone with you.” 

Junmyeon tilts his head. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Is that bad?” 

“Nah. That’s not bad.” 

“I kind of… I kind of expected someone to tell me no,” Sehun laughs. “Is that stupid?” 

“Why would it be stupid?” Junmyeon says. “You’ve been told no all your life. But, you know, now no one controls you.” He kisses Sehun sweetly, and Sehun lets his eyes slip closed. “We’re in this together.” 

_Together_ , he thinks. _Together._

There is something so pretty about _together_.  
  


♄

  
  
They eat all their meals together in the kitchen, sitting around the same table. Sehun mostly stays quiet as the rest of them chit chat, but even that is nice. It feels homey, feels sort of like something he can distantly remember, his fingertips just barely brushing against the memory. Minseok and Junmyeon joke around like they’re old friends, and who knows? Maybe they are. Maybe they all were… before. 

“Well, now… so far removed? I can remember almost everything,” Minseok says. “But, uh, I can’t really remember people’s names that well. I only remember—” 

“Numbers,” Kyungsoo says, and Minseok nods at him. “I don’t think we were allowed to give our names out.” 

“Shit,” Junmyeon says. “Even in the simulation—”

“Yeah, even in the simulation, we knew each other’s names,” Sehun says. 

“Life ain’t always like a simulation, now is it?” Minseok smiles, shrugging his shoulders. “I dunno. It takes some time to come to terms with things, I think. It takes some… you know, therapy.” 

“You guys got therapy out here?” Junmyeon asks, looking around. “M-droids?” 

“Nah,” Minseok says. “Just me and him.” He gestures to Kyungsoo. “We’ve had some time.” 

“You guys just sit around and talk?” Sehun asks. 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says. “And work.” 

Sehun’s heart falls into his stomach as he thinks about this, his future. “I don’t wanna work anymore.” 

Minseok smiles. “Understandable.” 

He is confused by Minseok’s generosity, by his kindness. Shouldn’t he be telling Sehun that it’s his duty to contribute to the cause? Sehun feels like he should stay, help. Contribute. 

“We’re not in the business of telling you what to do,” Minseok says, almost like he can read Sehun’s thoughts. “We barely know each other through this reality. You’re confused, you’re hurt. We’ll earn your trust over time.” 

“I trust you,” Sehun frowns. 

“You’re crazy,” Minseok says. He nods his head. “Take the vacation. It’s not like we didn’t all need one.” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says, a little smile cut happily across his face, “we’re gonna take that ship and we’re gonna see the universe.” 

Something about that makes Sehun smile, the thought of the great wide somewhere, black backdrop speckled with bright white light just waiting for them to push through it, part the curtain and step into the unknown. 

“Sounds good,” Minseok says, a catlike grin on his face. “Sounds really good.”  
  


♄

  
  
Junmyeon helps Minseok clean after their supper, and Kyungsoo kicks Sehun under the table. 

“So what happened to us in the simulation?” Kyungsoo asks. “After I died?” 

“It was complicated.” 

“Complicated how?” 

“They… they had a RAPA unit. Looked like you,” Sehun confesses, and he looks up at Kyungsoo. “Sorry.” 

“What are you apologizing for?” Kyungsoo laughs. “Of course they’d do something shitty like that.” He leans his elbow on the table, puts his chin in his hand. “Did you ever think maybe it wasn’t really me?” 

“Maybe once or twice,” Sehun lies. 

“Liar.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun smiles. “It was… it was very convincing.” 

“I bet.” 

Sehun falls silent, wondering if he’s allowed to ask the question he wants to ask. It takes a moment to work up the courage. Kyungsoo just stares back at him, open and vulnerable like he’s waiting for Sehun. Like he’s waiting for this moment. 

“C-Could I ask you something?” Sehun asks. 

“Shoot,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Was your simulation the same as mine?” 

“For a while, I think,” Kyungsoo says. “And then… then I think we split. Somewhere along the way.” 

“So for a while, we… I mean, I really knew you in there?” Sehun asks. 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo smiles. “You knew me.” 

Sehun nods. “Okay. All right.” 

“Does that make you feel better or worse?” 

“Better,” Sehun says. “I think.” 

“You’ve got time to figure it out.” 

“Yeah.” 

Sehun sits and thinks, wondering if he’s making the right decision in leaving. He doesn’t want to be thrust back into fighting, searching, the stress of life. He wants a little reprieve. He wants to stay with Junmyeon. 

“You had a vision,” Kyungsoo says. 

It shocks Sehun out of thought, and his eyes go wide as he looks at Kyungsoo, who raises his brows expectantly. 

“What?” 

“Back in the theater,” Kyungsoo says. “You saw memories, right? Or, like, _a_ memory?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says, and he leans in, lowers his voice. “I-Is that normal?” 

“I get them sometimes.” He looks back towards Minseok and Junmyeon. They’re busy washing dishes, and together, Kyungsoo and he look at them fondly. “Some days are worse than others.” 

“Yeah.” 

Kyungsoo looks back at him, giving him a charming smile. He remembers his affection, his love for Kyungsoo. That wasn’t simulated. 

“We’re gonna be okay,” Kyungsoo says. “So… whatever comes now, you don’t have to worry. We take things as they come.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Right.” 

“I know we just reunited, but I’ll miss you when you’re gone.” 

“We can still—I mean, there’s ways for us to keep in contact, right?” 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says. “Now that we’ve found each other again, it won’t be that easy to shake me.”  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun feels strange when they are ready to leave. Strange and sad. They wake in their bunks, and Sehun lies in his bed, staring at the bottom of Junmyeon’s. 

_He closes his eyes, and he is somewhere else. His vision is hazy, unclear, like he’s staring at the world through tinted water._

_He is standing in a ship, and when he looks down, he is dressed in all black. He looks around him, and he is surrounded by children, other children. He feels lonely, and he doesn’t know why._

_Then, he sees a child, another child. He’s silly looking. A big silly smile to match his big silly ears. Sehun feels a bolt of love streak through his heart, and the boy reaches out to take Sehun’s hand._

“Are you awake?” Junmyeon whispers. 

Sehun blinks, trying to figure out where he was. Whether what he saw was real or not. It is momentarily jarring, like he’s sinking back into his body, down into the mattress. 

“Yeah,” he answers. 

“Come up here.” 

Sehun takes no further instruction, climbs the ladder and lays his body down next to Junmyeon. He curls around Junmyeon like he’s being tugged into his orbit, and his arms fall naturally around Junmyeon’s waist, hugging him close. 

“You rethinking things?” 

“No,” Sehun says, and it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. 

“We can change our minds,” Junmyeon says. 

“No, I… I think I need a break,” Sehun says. “Is that bad?” 

“No,” Junmyeon tells him, and he moves himself back into Sehun’s embrace, deeper and more pleasurable. “I don’t think that’s bad. And you don’t have to keep asking.”

Sehun breathes out slowly. 

“What do you think they think of us?” Sehun asks. 

Junmyeon snorts. “Why do you care?” 

Sehun bites his lip, and he brushes the tip of his nose through Junmyeon’s hair. “I don’t know. Something inside me… I just feel like we should stick together… but I don’t…. I wanna be with you. I wanna be alone with you.” 

“You will be,” Junmyeon says. “And we can always go back, okay? We’ll get some time apart, and then—” 

“And then we’ll go home,” Sehun says. “Right?” 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon sighs, and Sehun leans over his shoulder to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We’ll go home.”  
  


♄

  
  
Chronos is a beautiful layover, a small stop in their journey together. Sehun closes his eyes and hugs Kyungsoo close before they’re to leave. 

“Remember, keep your comm-unit on you,” Kyungsoo whispers. “Don’t eat anything without scanning it first.” 

“It’s not my first time out in—,” he starts before realizing it _is_ his first time out in the universe. 

All his life, all that he’s known are these people and the cold interior of thermoregulated ships. He wants to feel the wind. 

“You’ll be okay,” Kyungsoo says, and he squeezes Sehun tightly, patting Sehun’s back before pulling away. “I know you will be. I just… I can’t wait to see you again.” 

“Don’t be strangers, okay?” Minseok says, and he pulls Sehun into a tight hug. Sehun shuts his eyes. “Keep us updated.” He withdraws, pats the side of the ship. “We have a tracker on her, so if you stop communicating, we won’t hesitate.” 

Junmyeon grins wryly. “Maybe we wanna get lost for a while.” 

“As long as I get a weekly update,” Minseok shrugs, “I’m cool. Just wanna make sure you haven’t been eaten by an atrocity.” Sehun spits out a laugh, and Minseok gives him a gummy smile. “Go on… before I decide to keep you around.” 

They step inside the ship, boots clunking on the metal, and the airlocks seal behind them. They get into position, sitting at the controls. It is close quarters, practically stacked next to each other. Then, Junmyeon touches the button. He brings the ship to life, and Sehun breathes in, slightly overwhelmed by the emotions flooding through him. 

“Where should we go?” Junmyeon asks. His eyes scan over the digital map before them. “I don’t know, I’m… I’m not familiar with any of these planets. We should… we could go anywhere, really.” 

“Then… then let’s go,” Sehun says. “Anywhere.” 

Junmyeon looks over at him. 

“What’s gotten into you?” He pushes his shoulder against Sehun’s, a little love in everything now. “Now, you’re so adventurous.” 

“I’ve always been adventurous,” Sehun argues. “I was just safe.” 

“No such thing as a safe adventure.” 

Junmyeon pulls down on the lever, and the ship lurches into movement. Moving through the stars. 

“First thing I wanna do when we land,” Junmyeon says, and he takes his right hand off the lever, the left steering absently. He does not turn away from the dashboard as he grabs Sehun’s hand. “I wanna sleep. A long, long time.” 

Sehun looks at him. He is sitting up tall in the cockpit, looks handsome, looks strong. He is no different. There could be a thousand, a million, a billion versions of him, and he would always be incredible, the stuff of legends. 

“We’ve been asleep for a while.” 

They are peeling back pages of the universe as the ship moves, and Sehun can feel the stars on his eyelashes. 

“We weren’t really asleep,” Junmyeon says. He glances at Sehun, and when their eyes meet, he squeezes Sehun’s hand in his. “We fell in love, didn’t we?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun agrees. “We did.” 

“That doesn’t happen overnight,” Junmyeon smiles. 

“I guess not.” He looks over the dash, tries not to let his eyes fill with tears. “But sleep… sounds good.” 

“Doesn’t it?” 

Sehun lets himself dream of a comfortable bed, plush pillows strewn across it. Dream of Junmyeon in his arms. Dream of waking up to a better world.  
  


♄

  
  
They find a planet that looks like childhood or some dream he once had of a childhood he would have loved. 

It is lush with life, green and swimming with sound. The first few days are scary, as most first things are, but they explore slowly, together. Hand in hand. 

“It’s just us here,” Junmyeon says, waving around the scanner that Minseok had gifted them. “Just us and some wildlife. But nothing… nothing dangerous.”

“Really?” Sehun asks, hopeful. 

Junmyeon turns to him, smiling. “Really.” He points to the forest with the end of the wooden staff. “What do you say, go check it out?” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and he feels more cautious than he ever has before, and he considers it a side-effect of wanting to preserve himself and the love that he’s found. 

They set camp at the edge of the forest where the land is flattest, where the water drainage is good. They scan plants to find what is most beneficial to them, and they find what food they like, what food they don’t. 

Junmyeon gnaws on the root goofily, dribbling juice down his chin, and Sehun snorts. 

“It’s not funny,” Junmyeon says, and he waves the butt end of it at him. “Keep laughing, and you’ll get no supper.” 

“We have rations in the ship,” Sehun says. “I’ll eat noodles if I want.” 

“ _No_ ,” Junmyeon whines, and he passes over the root, bright yellow and spotted with white wobbly circles. “Try it. Honestly, it’s… it’s really good.” 

Sehun lifts it to his mouth, studies it for a moment. The ends of the root have been washed clean, but they look like branching feet, and it makes Sehun a bit nauseous just to look at it. 

“Try it, coward,” Junmyeon says, and he shoves his shoulder into Sehun’s. 

Sehun rolls his eyes, sinks his teeth into the fruit’s yellow flesh, and he immediately moans out his pleasure. He’s never tasted anything so fucking _fresh_ , so luscious and sweet. It’s sugary, a bit sour, and he takes another bite. 

“See, I told you,” Junmyeon taunts before turning back to the forest, smiling before leaning his head on Sehun’s shoulder. “We’re killing this. We’ve already set up camp, found food we like, fresh water…” 

“Yeah, who said this would be hard?” Sehun asks. 

“Nobody,” Junmyeon says. “But still, we’re doin’ it! Just us and the dotfruits.” 

Sehun quirks his brow. “Dotfruits?” 

“Well, what else are we gonna call ‘em?” 

“I dunno, whatever they’re supposed to be called,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon looks around dramatically, as though someone might jump out from between some of the trees. “Yes, let’s ask one of the many human beings around. Maybe a helpful droid.” 

“Okay, I get it, I get it,” Sehun says. “Point taken.” 

Junmyeon smiles at him, grabs him by the jaw, and pulls him into a kiss. Sehun breathes out harshly, surprised by the sudden and fierce affection, but he kisses back with all he’s worth, and it tastes like the yellow fruit. The dotfruit. 

“Hey,” Junmyeon whispers. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Sehun says. “Thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“Doing this with me,” Sehun says. “Coming here.” 

Junmyeon leans his head on Sehun’s shoulder. “No place I’d rather be, baby.”  
  


♄

  
  
Their life is easy, for the most part. It’s not overly hard to find food. The land seems lush and benevolent, so they eat well. The water is home to many different sorts of creatures, and Junmyeon is adept at catching them, even with his bare hands. 

“I always tested well on response time and reflex tests,” he smiles. 

“Really coming in handy right now,” Sehun says, and he sits cross-legged at the water’s edge, smiling as Junmyeon lets the little golden fish skim through his hands before depositing them into a bucket. 

They roast the fish in salt, pepper, and butter over the open fire, skewered nicely. Junmyeon skewers squares of the dotfruit, and they develop a healthy char. Sweet and smoky. They eat under the stars, the whistling and buzzing of rare birds and bugs. 

Their shelter is built well, and it took some time to get it perfect. Junmyeon isn’t much of a builder, but Sehun learned a couple things back when he was young. At the very least, when he was young in the simulation. The trees in the forest are thick and sturdy, and it’s easy to keep everything from getting wet because he builds the small cabin up on a log foundation. The tools come in handy, especially the staff. Junmyeon cuts wood, clean, perfect slices as Sehun assembles, the layout easy enough. 

“This is insane,” Junmyeon says, staring up at the home they made. “I feel like I learn new things about you every day.” 

“We never really had much time to talk about… you know, other things,” Sehun says. 

“We have all the time in the world now.” Sehun looks at him, and he tilts his head coyly. “You’re good at building. What else are you good at?” 

“I dunno,” Sehun says, and he looks off towards the door of the cabin, fiddling his hands together as he thinks. “I guess I’m okay at building. I’ve gotten good at certain kinds of magic. I’m not bad a—”

But he is cut off by Junmyeon’s kiss, fervent and lovely. Sehun squeezes his eyes closed, his body affixed to Junmyeon like they won’t ever be apart.

“You’re good at that,” Junmyeon smiles, and he turns, grabs some boxes to begin moving them in. “Plenty good at that.” 

Sehun smiles, and he picks up a box, starts moving things in.  
  


♄

  
  
There is a great river that divides the planet into two. For the first several weeks, they stay to the east, and they don’t venture out much further than that. 

The land is vast, plentiful, and Sehun has no great desire to do much more exploring than they’ve already done. 

Junmyeon, of course… 

“You’re being a coward, obviously,” Junmyeon says. 

Sehun scoffs. “How am I being a coward?” He gestures broadly to the perfect golden beach. “We’ve got everything we need right here.” He points to where the river meets the ocean. “We’ve got the most beautiful water.” He points to their large basket full of dotfruits. “We’ve got the most delicious fruit.” He points to his own face. “We’ve got me.” 

“I’m going to cross the river,” Junmyeon says, “and you’re coming with me.” 

Junmyeon gets up from where he once sat on the beach, furiously stalking into the jungle. He doesn’t even look back over his shoulder. Sehun scrambles to his feet, grabs the staff, and chases after him. Sand falls from the folds in his clothes as he closes the gap between them, and he calls Junmyeon’s name, waiting to hear his answer. 

“I’m up here,” Junmyeon calls back, cheerful and mischievous. Sehun hates that he loves him. 

Eventually, he comes upon a clearing, and as Junmyeon stands there, he stares through the cut in the canopy. The sky is butterscotch-colored, warm and sweet. Sehun basks in the light of the stars, and he watches as Junmyeon stretches in the warm light. He turns back to Sehun with a smile, taunting. 

“I thought you didn’t wanna explore,” Junmyeon says. 

“Well, I wasn’t gonna let you go by yourself,” Sehun says. 

“I would be okay.” 

“I know,” Sehun says, and he thinks that perhaps, the _I just wanted to make sure_ goes unspoken. 

Junmyeon sticks out his hands, offering them to Sehun. He takes them gratefully, brings them together in an embrace. 

“Come on,” Junmyeon whispers, and he pulls back, dragging Sehun west through the trees. “Through here.” 

They part the flora, and when they hear the rushing of laughing water, he closes his eyes, letting himself be led totally. It is trust, he realizes. Pure, unshakable trust. They’ve been to the astral and back again. There is nothing they cannot survive together. 

He only opens his eyes once the sound of the water is loud and evident in his ears. Junmyeon strips himself out of his clothes, stepping out of his shoes. 

“What are you doing?” Sehun asks, but he finds the line of questioning pointless as he studies the soft, sweet line of Junmyeon’s naked form. 

“We don’t have to cross today,” Junmyeon says, and he steps into the water, sucking in a breath. “But I think it would be nice to get in for a while.” 

“Cold?” Sehun asks. 

“Y-Yeah,” Junmyeon shivers, and he turns back as he slips in a little deeper. “Come here and keep me warm.” 

Sehun smiles. Junmyeon concedes for him. 

He pulls himself from his clothes, toeing out of his own shoes the way Junmyeon did. He puts his foot into the river, stepping down into the frigid cold. He braces himself, and it makes Junmyeon laugh. 

He plunges in all at once, holding his breath as he sinks under the water line. His body rejects the feeling, but he holds himself there until he gets used to the cold, only emerging when he needs to come back up for air. 

Junmyeon might make concessions for him, but Sehun makes concessions for Junmyeon as well. They step forward together or not at all. 

He pulls Junmyeon into his arms, happy with the fresh, warm skin. They bathe each other slowly, carefully. They kiss under the caramel sky, the stars so close he can feel them sparkling on his skin.  
  


♄

  
  
They walk through the forest every day, finding new things on the planet. Sehun always brings the staff. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna need that anytime soon,” Junmyeon says. “The biggest things here are grounddogs. Do you think they’re gonna bite?” 

He bumps his hip into Sehun’s as they walk, and he only uses the staff to brush tree branches and ground cover out of their way. 

“I think I’m getting used to this place,” Junmyeon says, and a few birds sing through the wood, a pleasant song in the background. “I think I’m gonna miss it, you know, whenever it’s time to go back.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, “me too.” 

“We shouldn’t have put up such a permanent home,” Junmyeon says. “Makes me not want to leave.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Me neither.” 

“I didn’t ever consider myself a person who would find a place to stick.” 

“Why not?” 

Junmyeon shrugs. “Just too excited to see new things, I guess.” 

“I was always… well, I always felt paralyzed by choice,” Sehun says. “Whenever I was given one.” 

“Maybe that’s because we were never really given one.” 

Sehun’s heart sinks. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Junmyeon says, a sad little smile on his face. 

“No, don’t apologize,” Sehun says. “I think talking helps.” 

“All we do is talk.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “I like that.” 

“Yeah?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Yeah.” They find another dotfruit tree, and Junmyeon climbs it easily, staring down at Sehun with a grin. “What?” 

“Just like looking at you,” Junmyeon says. 

“Still?” Sehun asks. 

“Please,” Junmyeon says, and he shakes the branch, letting a bunch of the fruits tumble to the earth. “ _Always_ , Sehun.”  
  


♄

  
  
There is nothing really to do except enjoy the natural beauty of the planet, enjoy the company, and make necessary adjustments to their living situation. It is much different, a much different life than all the ones he’s previously led, but it suits him just fine. He naps on the porch under the giant star’s bright heat in the midday, blankets warm around him. It reminds him of a mother he never knew, a mother that doesn’t exist. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, and when he opens them, he is staring at Junmyeon. 

“Resting?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Shut up. That’s what we’re here for.” 

“You could _occasionally_ do some work,” Junmyeon suggests gently. 

“I’m getting up in a minute,” Sehun says, and he curls his arm under his head, watching Junmyeon weave rope together. “What are you doing?” 

“Making a net,” Junmyeon says. “I wanna trap a grounddog.” 

“Why?” 

“I just wanna keep one,” Junmyeon says. “They’re so cute.” 

“Are you joking?” 

“Yes. I want to catch more fish,” Junmyeon says. “I’m tired of standing in that river all day long just because you’re hungry.” 

“You’re really good to me,” Sehun says, and he smiles at Junmyeon. 

“Don’t do that. Just ‘cause you’re cute.” 

“But I am.” 

Junmyeon shakes his head on a smile, goes back to weaving. Sehun watches, a wave of peace washing over him like tides as Junmyeon works. The stars move, and the world goes dimmer. Junmyeon looks excruciatingly pretty in the dying light. 

“Hey,” Junmyeon says, “can you grab some more of that rope from the ship? I think it’s in one of the boxes in the hold.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “In a minute.” 

Junmyeon shoots him a look, and Sehun gets up, stretching up towards the sky. He walks over towards the landed ship. They use it as a sort of secondary storage system, things they don’t need every day or even every month. Sehun taps the door, and it hisses open. He steps inside, and once he’s by the cargo, he begins to rummage through several of the boxes. 

Junmyeon’s never been good at organizing, and he certainly isn’t the best at it either. 

He ends up searching for longer than he’d care to admit, but he finds a package wrapped in brown paper, a little note attached to it. He rips the note off without looking at it, unwraps the package. Inside, there is a large bottle filled with a clear, viscous liquid. Confused, Sehun throws the paper into the box and unfolds the note. 

_Use responsibly_ , the note says. 

The realization hits like a laser bullet straight through the chest. Heat flares across his cheeks, and Sehun crumples up the note in his fist, throwing it into the cargo container. 

Sehun tucks the bottle into his pocket, rolling his eyes. He can’t pretend like it won’t come in handy.  
  


♄

  
  
On more than one occasion, they indulge in each other’s company. It is different, the very first time, and Sehun feels clumsy and awkward as he slips into Junmyeon’s body, shuddering heat reverberating through his body. They relearn each other, over and over again, and after a couple months, it feels like maybe it never mattered, here or there. 

They are loud, wanton, and desperate, eager for each other in ways they’ve never been, never _could be_ before. Days revolve around sleeping, eating, and fucking, and Sehun relaxes into it, feels himself become someone new under Junmyeon’s hand. 

He is thrusting into Junmyeon, chasing their release, and he tilts his head back, moans to the ceiling. Junmyeon is beautiful, too beautiful, too tight and hot. He tries not to stare down at Junmyeon because it brings him so fucking close, but how can he look away? They are magnetized. They’ve always been brought together by something greater. 

_He is somewhere else. He is fourteen, maybe fifteen. He is so young. Junmyeon is staring back at him, and they’re both so young._

_“Where are they going to take us, do you think?” he hears himself say._

_“I don’t know,” Junmyeon says, and his voice is like music. “They’d be stupid to pull us apart.”_

“Hey,” Junmyeon says. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“S—What?” 

“You were just… never mind,” Junmyeon says, and he brings Sehun’s body to his, cradles him in an embrace. “Just rest with me, okay?” 

Sehun releases a sudden breath, a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he lets himself go. He closes his eyes, kisses the side of Junmyeon’s face. 

“Yeah, okay,” he says, and he wonders about the visions that come more and more frequent as the nights pass to nothing.  
  


♄

  
  
The west holds many great discoveries, and Junmyeon lords this over him every chance he gets. At this point, Sehun doesn’t think he can be blamed for being cautious. 

They find whirlpools, natural springs, a waterfall that cries over purple, iridescent rock. It is strange, beautiful, and they spend their days exploring the great wide somewhere. 

“What’s up there?” Junmyeon shouts, pointing off towards another smattering of the purple rock. 

“I dunno,” Sehun says, and he squints up at the sky through the sparse trees. “Looks like it might…” 

“Storm, yeah,” Junmyeon agrees. 

“Should we head back?” 

“Up to you,” Junmyeon says. 

Sehun shrugs his shoulders. “Let’s go check it out.” 

Junmyeon takes to a delighted run, the excitement infectious, and soon, Sehun is running too. The wind picks up behind them, and thunder crackles in the sky as they race towards the violet, the lilac stones, glittering in the distance. 

Sehun is nearly out of breath by the time they get to the mouth of the sparkling cave, and the rains fall harsh and hard. He takes a moment to study Junmyeon, his wet hair, his clothes sticking to his skin.

Junmyeon pulls Sehun into the cavern as lightning strikes behind them. 

Junmyeon is quick to light a fire with the staff, and the fire dances along the crystalline walls. Sehun bites his lip as he thinks back to the Crystym, and when Junmyeon turns to him with a wry smile, it is immediately evident that they are thinking the same thing. 

“We’ll wait out the storm here,” Junmyeon says, and he gives Sehun his free hand as they look through the cave. “Just to be safe.” 

Sehun says nothing, but again, his eyes go to the water dripping from the ends of Junmyeon’s hair, the wet fabric of his clothes revealing the lithe lines of his body. 

He turns back, the orange fire playing off the purple, sparkling walls prettily. 

“What are you looking at?” he wonders. 

“You,” Sehun says. 

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” 

“It is,” Sehun agrees. 

“Not as pretty as me?” 

“No.” 

The rains howl and the furious windstorm rages just outside the thick, crystal walls, and Junmyeon pulls Sehun into a passionate kiss, one that grows with every breath, every heavy move of their chests. 

They are slow to lie upon the weary earth, and Sehun holds Junmyeon by the back of the neck, gentle with him as they embrace amid the storm. Each movement, each touch, each kiss is purposeful and sweet. Behind his eyelids, Sehun sees purple, soft purple.

Junmyeon kisses the side of Sehun’s face, and he holds himself close. They make a thin line, a perfect line, and though it is not for the first time, it certainly is the best. Junmyeon moans, and his voice carries and echoes as Sehun touches him. 

“Sehun,” Junmyeon says, and Sehun’s name comes back at him a hundred times, each better than the time before. 

Words of love drip from Junmyeon’s lips, each sound a song and each song a masterpiece. 

When the rains cease, when the wind no longer calls, they lie on their backs and they stare at the shimmering ceiling of the cave. It is safe to return, but he knows that, for a while at least, they have no intention of leaving. 

It is quiet, the kind of quiet Sehun hates to break. Moments like this, perfect little moments, they are not so rare, but he still feels the overwhelming desire, the _need_ to shelter them in his hands. Protect them like each is a small flame. 

Suddenly, he is somewhere else. 

_He is only a child, a young child. He is surrounded by boys and girls, various shapes and sizes. He is filled with fear, from the bottoms of his feet to the top of his head, but there is someone at his side._

_Someone he recognizes only as a number. Eighty-eight. He gives Sehun a smile, gives Sehun a little hand signal that he doesn’t understand, but it still fills him with inexplicable warmth._

Junmyeon puts his hand on Sehun’s stomach, and the feeling grounds him in this reality, in this place, in this galaxy. They head back to the cabin a bit later, and Sehun thinks about the boys they once knew.  
  


♄

  
  
They’re eating supper when Junmyeon asks where he goes. 

“What do you mean?” 

“When you space out,” Junmyeon says. “Where do you go?” 

“I space out?” 

“Sometimes,” Junmyeon says. 

Sehun hesitates. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just come right out and say it. Maybe it’s a vestige of the simulation. Maybe that’s how deep he was. He shakes his head, tries to clear it from his head. It might have been like that once, but not anymore. 

“I’ve been seeing things,” Sehun says nervously, and Junmyeon looks down at his food, stabbing a piece of fish. 

“Things like what?” 

“Visions,” Sehun answers. “I think it’s… I think it’s my memory coming back.” 

“What do you remember?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Other kids,” Sehun says. “You.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

They finish eating, and Sehun sits in anxious silence as Junmyeon cleans everything up, puts the fire out. He stands in front of Sehun, offers him a hand. 

“Come to bed?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says. 

Sehun gives Junmyeon his hand, and they walk into the house, stripping each other down to little more than two scraps of fabric. They peel back blankets, bury themselves beneath them, and Sehun lets worry fall away. There is nothing to worry about now. It is just them. It’s always been them. 

Junmyeon smiles, eyes fluttering closed as he leans in to kiss Sehun. It is just as sweet as all the rest, and Sehun’s heart aches in his chest. 

“You know what’s silly?” Junmyeon whispers, and even that small sound seems loud in the quiet. 

“What?”

“I remember loving you,” Junmyeon says. “Even then.” 

“H-Have you been getting the visions too?” Sehun asks. 

“A few.” 

“What happened?” 

“I remember meeting you,” Junmyeon says. “I remember being friends with you. Wanting to take care of you. Wanting—I guess I wanted you in a way that I couldn’t put into words yet.” 

“Yeah?” Sehun asks. 

“Yeah,” Junmyeon says. 

“Does it make you feel differently?” 

“About what?” 

“Everything that’s happened since then,” Sehun says. “Does it make you regret?” 

“No,” Junmyeon says. “If anything, I think… I think it makes me feel more strongly towards you.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Me too.” 

Junmyeon smiles at him, presses another kiss to his lips. “Sleep, okay?” 

Suddenly, he feels as though all the energy has been sucked out of him like blood. 

“All right,” Sehun says, and he barely gets the words out before he is falling fast asleep, slipping into the dark.  
  


♄

  
  
_They are a group of nine, near inseparable, and all the instructors call them prodigies. Sehun is the youngest of them all, and he feels a silly sort of pride surge through him whenever they call them that. He’s young, and he’s not very talented yet, but they call him_ prodigy _along with the rest._

_“That’s ‘cause you’re a kiss up,” Four says._

_“Leave him alone,” Twenty-one says. “He’s a good kid.”_

_“That doesn’t mean he can’t also be a kiss-up,” Four reasons, and Sehun reaches over to smack him on the arm._

_“No fighting,” Junmyeon chastises, and oh—_

Sehun gasps awake, and he falls back to the bed. 

“Babe,” Junmyeon whispers, reaching for Sehun. 

“S-Sorry,” Sehun says. “I’m sorry.” 

“Bad dream?” 

“A vision,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon makes a noise of understanding. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“In the morning,” Sehun says. 

Junmyeon pulls him into an embrace, and it is easy to fall once more.  
  


♄

  
  
Sehun makes tallies each time they wake up. 

On the three hundred and thirty-eighth tally mark, they see the birds. 

The rare birds, few and far between that they’ve heard twinkling through the woods, reside in a line of dotfruit trees to the west… it is their home. They dance and swarm in the open air, and their songs float down as Sehun and Junmyeon stand there, hand in hand. He is momentarily transfixed by the beauty, the elegance, the deftness of their flight. He squeezes Junmyeon’s hand in his, and Junmyeon turns to face him. 

“This is cool,” Junmyeon whispers. “Really cool.”

“Yeah.” 

They stand there in soft silence as the birds fly, fly, fly. 

“I think we’ve seen everything to see here,” Sehun says, staring at the swirling column of yellow. “I think we’ve done everything I wanted to do.” 

“You think?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Yeah.” 

Junmyeon looks to the sky, and the wings beat against the sky. 

“Huh,” he says. 

“Huh,” Sehun says back.  
  


♄

  
  
They stay for a long time, Sehun thinks, and the tallies are the only way he keeps track besides the correspondence. The days are longer on this planet and they fall into each other, finding it incredibly difficult to disengage once they are wrapped up in love. 

They contact Minseok and Kyungsoo every week, and initially, Junmyeon handles the update reports. The more time passes, though, the more Sehun wants to be a part of the process. The more he wants to see them again. 

It is a bright morning, and it rained overnight. The soil and the forest smell richly, deeply, and Sehun breathes in enough to keep him steady for a while. Enough to hold him over until the next time he will smell it. 

He knows that, with time, they will find a chance to return. He just isn’t sure when that will be. 

“I think I wanna go back,” Sehun says quietly. 

Junmyeon looks at him, raises a brow like it doesn’t surprise him. 

“Back where?” 

“To Chronos,” Sehun answers. 

Junmyeon smiles at him. “We haven’t been here that long.” 

“I know,” Sehun says, and he shakes his head. “I know, I know, I just—” 

“Just?” 

“Just… for once, I really wanna find something worth fighting for, you know?” 

Junmyeon softens, melts. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He crosses to Sehun, takes Sehun’s hands in his. “And I… look, I didn’t want this to influence your decision or anything, but they got in contact with me about a week ago.” 

Fear and anticipation shoot like a current of electricity up Sehun’s spine. 

“They did? What did they say?” 

“They found people,” Junmyeon says. “Five other… Agency recruits, I guess you’d call them.” 

“T-They did? How?”

“Kyungsoo hacked the system, got all the ship coords for where the rest of the original Chronos agents were being held,” Junmyeon says. “They found them. Rescued them. They’re heading back to the homebase now.” 

Sehun’s throat goes tight with emotions he can’t understand. “Really?” 

“They said we’re welcome,” Junmyeon says. “Apparently… apparently anytime you see someone from your real memories, it helps, I dunno, jog things.” 

Sehun nods like it makes sense, like any of this makes any sense. 

“We should go,” Sehun says. “We should help.” 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Junmyeon says. 

“What about you?” Sehun asks. “What do _you_ want?” 

Junmyeon frowns softly, and he takes Sehun into his arms, hugging him close. “What do _I_ want?” He sighs, presses his forehead against Sehun’s shoulder. “I want you to be happy. That’s all I really want.” 

“What if I want the same for you?” 

“Sehun…” 

“I’m serious,” Sehun says. “We should make this decision together. We should… we should decide together.” 

“Do you remember any of them?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “I think I do.” 

“Their names?” 

“Just their numbers,” Sehun says. “Four. Sixty-one. Eighty-eight. Twen—” 

“Twenty-one,” Junmyeon says. “And Ten.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, heart thumping loudly in his neck. “I remember them.” 

Junmyeon looks back to the cabin, and Sehun knows what he’s feeling. Instinctively, he knows. This is a goodbye that they are sharing, and they don’t know when they will be back. 

“Are you sure about this?” Junmyeon asks. 

“I’m sure,” Sehun says. “Are you?” 

He looks to their ship, and Sehun smiles. Soon, they will have a new family. A bigger family than the day before. That’s all he’s ever wanted. That’s all he’s ever needed.  
  


♄

  
  
When they lift off, Sehun closes his eyes, and he dreams of their faces. It’s been so many years, he wonders how things will have changed them. What kind of simulations did they lead? What kind of universe were they fighting for? Do they remember Sehun? Do they think of him fondly? 

“Glad to be going back?” Junmyeon wonders. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “I am.” 

The stars pass them by in stripes of blue, red, and gold. Sehun looks ahead, Junmyeon’s hand in his, ready for the next day and the one after that. 

Family makes you strong. Home makes you happy.


End file.
